


Make-believe

by ScienceMachine



Series: No matter the universe, Ichigo will always be a fucking machine AKA The Almighty Power of Friendship [1]
Category: Bleach, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Bullying, Crack Crossover, Ghost Midoriya Izuku, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Married Couple, Multi, Past Abuse, Protective Kurosaki Ichigo, Still will die as a nonbinary adult, Todoroki Enji | Endeavor's Bad Parenting, Touch-Starved, Trigger warning for suicide, not as bad as it sounds, this time betaed by a wonderful Beta
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2020-12-28 17:08:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21140204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScienceMachine/pseuds/ScienceMachine
Summary: Ichigo and Kisuke, like all married couples, got a house in the Human World, stoically disagreed with the superhero crap going on, befriended a cute Hamster lady, adopted a couple of kids, and made sure that Kyoraku's alcohol reserves were distressingly low.Izuku was pretty sure his new strawberry of a teacher was some kind of secret demon. And those Shinigami weirdos should really stop telling him he is dead and in denial.





	1. Here is a joke.

**Author's Note:**

> Check out my wonderful Beta nopixiera's fic, it's totally awesome.  
I'm not exactly sure if the links are gonna work, I'm still in the process to figure AO3 out.

So Izuku was going to die today, after throwing himself out of the rooftop of a school building of course. Said school building was grey and bleak and did not have anything special about it, just a simple construction and a simple place to die.

He always thought that if he killed himself, he would cry like no tomorrow. And maybe he was crying, but he wasn’t sure _ what _he was feeling at this moment, everything felt a little blurred and a little hazy like the world was just as meaningless and useless like he was.

He looked down at the extent of his future skydive and questioned once more how a life ending decision like this could be a build-up of empty feelings and broken dreams. Like, dying was pretty damn life altering, right? Surely it deserved something... _ more. _

Izuku didn’t want to mess up his own suicide, that was low even for someone as pathetic as himself. He’d always thought that suicides were a moments of raw emotion, where life came to a screeching halt, that maybe he should be shouting his grief and defeat to the world (despite knowing that it was all his fault for not being _ enough _).

Of course the others were not at fault for feeling that the world had failed them!

They were right about that. The only person who didn't deserve such a privilege was Izuku.

The scathing part of him brought all those memories back in full force_ — You knew you were a no name Deku when All Might himself told you that you were never going to be a hero. _

_ “Take a swan dive of the roof” _

_ “There are safer ways to save people, young Midoriya” _

From such a high perspective the lighter gray concrete reminded him of some kind of goopy cake mixture. Would his organs, plastered against the ground and cement, give some color and make it elegant, red-velvet style?

That sounded good and considerate, his last act of kindness. Why was it that even in the end he was trying to be useful?

Why couldn’t he fucking stop waxing poetry and jump already?

Taking off his shoes and putting them side by side—_ “Always be tidy, Izuku”, his mother would say _— the child thought that yeah, he could do both.

He was done.

Goodbye.

**_____ Don’t Press Me _____**

He woke up in his bed, not in the hospital nor a grave.

Quiet as the dead, Izuku got up, walked to his mom’s room and threw — and that, kids, is how you create fucking nightmares with stupid words!— himself in her arms, crying like a fool.

He was alive.

[ **_____ Press Me _____** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aA73Zl3BuUM)

“Don’t the fullbring powers, or quirks, fade away after dying?” Said Ichigo.

In these times, humans are much more aware of the spiritual world without knowing that it exists in the first place.

But what could you expect from a world in which eighty percent of the people were fullbringers, and the rest had at least one fullbring mutation?

“Yeah, but we are well aware that ‘normal things’ don’t take into account 15-year old boys with reality breaking _ I’m-gonna-protect-others _ instincts” Deadpanned Rukia.

Thankfully, humans still were unable to see ghosts due to said souls possessing little reiatsu— although the souls were now stronger than ever. The pluses’ newfound strength also decreased the number of hollows. Souls now needed much more dark reiatsu to become hollows. But for every good there is bad, and in this situation it meant that once the souls become hollows, they transform into Menos almost immediately.

And to think, all this bullshit began with the birth of a glowing baby.

This incident— a word that those versed in Byakuya’s rarely used dialect knew translated to ‘a total clusterfuck’— was the direct result of all the wars and hollow-human contact that happened two hundred years ago. Instead of turning out as a once in a few hundred years phenomenon, the fullbring mutations accumulated, changed and evolved. Everybody preferred to blame Yhwach and leave it to that, though.

Everyone except Urahara and Kurotsuchi, of course. People in Soul Society have just gotten very good at ignoring them.

And ignoring common sense in general.

_ It says a lot about the shinigami when the only sane one is the dude with the psychotic hollow-zanpakuto. _

These fullbring abilities were known as quirks, and to this day the Shinigami had not found a mutation as baffling as this.

Hence, their current predicament.

Ichigo read the report once more in sheer disbelief.

-Midoriya Izuku. 15 years old. Quirk “Make believe”. It gives the user the capacity to alter reality according to his believes.

Date of defunction: May 17, 2016

A human that is already dead.

But thanks to thinking that his suicide was a dream— this kid sure dissociated like no tomorrow— his soul couldn’t be reaped untill he is convinced of his death.

And they chose to put Ichigo on the job just because he is happily married to Kisuke and lived in the human world.

_ Fan-fucking-tastic. _

“Rukia, sometimes I don’t know if I love you or hate you”

“You adore me, idiot. Now let me explain how to tell the traumatized 15 year old that his inherent state of existence is a figment of his imagination”.

“...neat”

[ **_____ Press Me _____** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-SjOkb3kVgI)

“Love”

Ichigo approached Kisuke with the casualness of a five grade hurricane. Kisuke let out a long exhale and prayed to mythical beings he did not believe in to give him strength.

“What is it this time”

His husbands face contorted in that funny way that was a cross between a pout and a rabid gorilla.

“Kyoraku says that we have to babysit”

“On his orders or for his amusement?”

“Yes”

“...we are not giving him the special sake next time he comes here”

Ichigo gave a solemn nod in response.

[ **_____ Press Me _____** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wx2FDyvt0gI)

After explaining his mission to Kisuke, they went to visit the Midoriya family against all orders that forbid interaction with the living world. Just to be petty.

They arrived in a suburban area of the town, the apartment complex was the kind you’d expect from well-off people. The walls were clean — although patches without paint already existed — and the windows had patterned curtains that gave the place a homely touch. Some doors squeaked with the wind, a sound that spoke of fireplaces and comfy sofas.

Now in front of the door, Ichigo rang the bell.

Out came a petite woman with huge green eyes, a rosy tint to her chubby cheeks, and a cute shy smile. She was wearing a pink apron that made her look even more adorable than she already was. She inclined her head to the side and asked them if she could help them with something and to please excuse her haggard appearance.

Ichigo privately thought she looked like a Hamster.

“We were wondering if by chance we could speak with you? Your son, Midoriya Izuku, recently participated in many mock exams to enter several high schools in the country, and the marks he achieved in ours was high enough to merit a visit, said the scientist.

Ichigo was frozen.

And why wouldn’t he be when this lady was one of the cutest human beings he had seen in his existence?

The now proud hamster lady offered them food and he almost hugged her out of principle.

They entered the house and sat down at the table. He turned his head and faced his husband.

“We must protect the hamster lady” Ichigo said with a completely straight face.

[ **_____ Press Me _____** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wSf3VRgfhRQ)

After adorableness incarnated brought them food, and sat on the sofa, she sighed. “My Izuku is not here at the moment, he says he is training to pass the physical exam of UA High School.”

“We understand if he is not interested” Kisuke said, ever the smooth talker.

“No, no! Please feel free to stay here. He just needs to speak with you” She blushed and Ichigo almost squealed “If waiting for him is not too imposing”

“No. Of course not” Whispered the wide eyed Ichigo.

She smiled.

And Ichigo passed out.

**_____ Don’t Press Me _____**

“Is the young man alright?” the nervous lady asked “Does he need water, maybe CPR?.” She said almost in tears. “Oh God, what if he is dead?”

Definitely in tears.

Kisuke hid a laugh behind his paper fan, “My husband has a flair for the dramatic, please don’t mind him”.

She gave him the biggest puppy eyes he had ever seen, “Are you sure?”

Urahara swallowed.

“Yeah”

Here's to hoping the boy arrives quickly lest he ends up like Ichigo.

[ **_____ Press Me _____** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AtHubsyGD8w)

_ This society is perverse, takes over the dreams of our children, devours their lives and their will. We are nothing but the product of the inherent corruption of the human heart. _

Toshinori read the newspaper while watching the young man out of the corner of his eye, who was carrying an old microwave and humming some american song.

He hoped the boy had put his gloves on, training was one thing and foolishness was another.

_ We are creating child soldiers and nobody is aware of this, we only have the indecency to reward their deaths and envy their liveliness. _

His successor was a thriving kid with a good heart and determination that deserved to be respected and feared. And he still regretted with both soul and heart his own stupidity, a child that driven was what he had been looking for since the very beginning.

_ We take away from our citizens the right to defend themselves, we create the conditions for tragic villains to be born and we make fun of those whose only fault is to exist in a world where having no powers is considered a gross disability. I know that people in ancient times did not know what they were dealing with and did the best amendments they could think of, at the cost of all morality and human decency. _

_ But since when do the ends justify the means? _

_ -Nelliel Tu Odelschwanck. _

Nelliel Tu Odelschwanck, better known as The Centaur, was notorious for defending the existence of vigilantes and for her harsh criticism against the society of heroes. She was seen almost as a messiah, the counterpart of the Symbol of Peace and the great shadow that his existence caused. Some went so far as to say that she was responsible for several incidents during the last two hundred years, in which a beautiful lady with the body of a horse rescued civilians, villains, heroes and vigilantes from black creatures as tall as buildings, with porcelain masks and dreadful, chilling screams. The beautiful woman was said to whisper to those frightened souls that those from the lands of the sand dunes and waning moon heard their cries for help, and that they would protect them from the ones that were hollow.

She was a saint to the general population and one of the few people whose writings always made him doubt all his achievements.

Because Toshinori knew he was a flawed man. That meant he made a flawed Pillar of Peace, and with that he had added more flaws to an already broken society. Nelliel made a frightening amount of sense and the question she asked was a good one, a disheartening one.

Now with the weight of a new generation and his own past failures, he began to wonder…

_ Do the ends really justify the means? _

**_____ Don’t Press Me _____**

After Ichigo woke up— and Kisuke laughed at him— they got comfortable on a worn sofa and waited for Midoriya Izuku.

What walked through that door would haunt their happy and cutesy dreams forever.

The kid was more adorable than his mother, imposible feat right there, and gave him an earnest smile while he mouthed a Tadaima in his mother’s direction.

Ichigo decided, right there and then, that he was going to murder anyone who dared to make that smile disappear.

Urahara introduced himself and his husband before saying, “Well, little Midoriya, we are here to inform you that you died six months ago after commiting suicide”.

The freckled boy’s smile vanished.

It seemed that Ichigo would have to deal with being a widow from this moment onwards.

[ **_____ Press Me _____** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9Ht5RZpzPqw)

Once Ichigo was done strangling his beloved, he let the two to converse in peace about the impossibility of the child’s quirk (which was eerily similar to Orihime’s). Ichigo, in his boredom, let his mind drift back to the reunion with the captains that took place after Rukia briefed him on this mission.

First, they discussed how much they could interfere in the boy's life, which was not much according to the law. Even if the Central had been slowly — thanks in part to Ichigo’s bullheaded interference and his anarchic group of friends— _ softening _ their approach to what rules were needed over the last two hundred years, they were still stuck up hardasses. This new law flexibility was becoming more prevalent now that the living were able to see high-reiatsu spiritual beings. Some baby recruits were incapable of staying out of human business and the asscracks couldn’t afford to be _ that _ execution happy, not without destabilizing the whole system. Legends about sword masters who helped souls move on were part of everyday folklore, a detail that Shinji found particularly amusing. The most prominent topic of discussion was that they had not had the problem of a quirk not letting its user die since a stuck up dude with an Orwell-Aizen complex got it in his head to get enough quirks to last several millennia. And weren’t quirks supposed to be genetic mutations? Hell, Ichigo didn’t need Kisuke’s book smarts to know genetics didn’t work that way.

Another cool detail about the flexible approach and the reformed laws was that the Central and Captain Commander had made some ‘we will kill you if you spill’ secret treaties with various higher ups from the Living World in case something like super quirk dude happened again. And of course, Kisuke—and thus Ichigo— knew all about those negotiations.

Always a relief to know that the 46 bastards had not changed at all, even if their policies had modernized a bit.

Also, Ichigo at last had taken a more active role in changing the Rukongai for the better— he was not letting his sisters die just to end up in a dystopian excuse of a heaven— and was doing a scarily good job. His newfound political and bureaucratic prowess intimidated the captains on a level not seen since Unohana, even Kisuke was wary and more than a little turned on.

But that was a different topic. Besides, what happens in Rukongai, stays in Rukongai.

His no longer human friends were helping too. Orihime and her husband Ishida— something Ichigo did see coming after he respectfully declined her advances, no matter if people thought he was incapable of noticing the obvious— were working on a type of Living World visa that would help all the souls that remembered their pasts to get closure with their families. There was a betting pool betting on whether or not the marriage was going to include Tatsuki,— a disaster bi to Ichigo’s functioning demi— and he was sure that she would rage confess them. Mizuiro was conducting the human world’s underground activities, competing with another villian with the same connections for the top spot in the criminal world, and used Keigo as his secretary, much to the latter's whining. Chad, as always, was doing Chad things. Last Ichigo heard from he was on about some anti-deforestation campaign.

Eh. Go Chad!

Returning to the reunion, it was the usual: Equilibrium, balance, Renji mock flirting with Rukia, and all that. He did not pay attention until the words ‘suicide baiting’ came up. Ah, so the kid was bullied worse than he suspected, he needed to talk with Renji and Rukia about this development.

And maybe he would let his hollow out for a second to stomp the school to the ground.

A few untrained shinigami startled at the sudden rise of reiatsu, and Kyoraku was watching him with a considering gaze which — no. The man had put him on this mission and Ichigo was going to complete it as he damn well pleases. Two hundred years should be sufficient lesson material for the rest of their combined existence.

Another captain, possibly Hitsugaya, said that the boy’s situation was incredibly difficult, that the boy could deny reality for a long time, and that the boy was this, and the boy made that. Then another, one of the newbies judging by their unsure tone, added that the boy was like this, and holy shit, Kenpachi was calling the kid ‘boy’ too. Were they really going to pull a Kratos and call the kid ‘boy’ every five seconds?

Perhaps he should be paying attention because the pale color on Kisuke’s face was worrying. It took a lot to put that kind of look on him, and Ichigo knew he would not like this one bit.

Fuck his nerves of steel.

“Hey, what is going on?” Ichigo whispered.

“They. Want. To. Assign. _ Hiyori _ . To. _ Bakugou Katsuki _”

Oh, for fuck’s sake! The blond kid with the anger issues? The one that made _ Kisuke _ and _ Ichigo _ wary after digging his information up?

Ichigo felt something crack in his mind. The resounding maniacal laughter of Shiro didn’t assure him.

They both made their opinion on that match up very clear and, finally, the reunion came to an end with two new missions. Byakuya was to take care of the Bakugou situation and Shinji was to babysit him.

“Why was I assigned the other boy?”. Was it strange that Byakuya found sick satisfaction from watching Kurosaki Ichigo’s face twitch? Not at all.

“To find what triggered our boy’s suicidal tendencies” replied Kyoraku, then he turned to Ichigo “Kurosaki-kun, remember that in another four months Shinji will accompany both Urahara and you”.

Fuck not giving Kyoraku sake. Ichigo was going to make sure the man remained sober for the rest of his afterlife.

**_____ Don’t Press Me _____**

Urahara got out of the door with a done face. Convincing this kid was like trying to order Ichigo around.

A hopelessly impossible mission.

He told his husband as much, and secretly took delight in the grumpy face he got in response. 

Serves Ichigo right for making him suffer.

[ **_____ Press Me _____** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YlEb3L1PIco)

Ichigo, his husband, and Rukia and Renji were on their way to the beach in order to find the boy. Ichigo had an interesting conversation with his besties about discrimination, going from a place with no opportunities to become part of an influencial organization, getting adopted by Byakuya of the prestigious Kuchicki clan — for some reason people were now betting that Kisuke and him were on road to making the kid a part of their family, in typical idiot shinigami logic —, and the difference between being a Rukongai brat and a quirkless one in this day and age.

They found the boy trying to lift a refrigerator. Said boy was startled by the sight of them and nearly dropped the damn fridge — Ichigo reacted instantly, a quick shunpo got him there in time to intercept it before it squashed their new charge.

Midoriya began to shout question after question about Ichigo’s weight lifting quirk. A laughing Urahara made a shushing gesture with his index finger over his mouth, which made the kid come to his senses and finally shut up.

Seeing no way to convince the kid without revealing that they were, in fact, shinigami— and damn right that Kisuke bitched about how he was Ichigo 2.0 for hours—; they explained everything, from Soul Society to how souls work, as blatantly as possible.

The plus — not plus? What the hell was going on with this fullbring mutation? — soul was looking at him in earnest after Rukia offhandedly mentioned that he was Soul Society’s Hero.

Freaking hero fanboy.

Oh, and Rukia and Renji, his _ beloved _ friends, were giggling like fools.

He rolled his eyes and continued with his explanation.

“Okay kid, you may be Jesus reincarnated but that doesn’t mean you have to take on this sacrifice play”.

Urahara was moving his paper fan as if to shake off a bad smell, “It stinks,” said the ex-assassin.

“Of what?” Ichigo asked.

“Of hypocrisy”.

The only reason Ichigo didn’t punch his sweetheart in his smirking mug was because the bastard was damn right.

“If he was going to call me out on my shit, he didn’t have to do it in front of the kid who we are totally not adopting” Ichigo complained to a giggling Yoruichi later that evening, the damn cat lived vicariously through his own marriage.

Once the story of the wars and ‘why you should not be a self-sacrificing child soldier even if it is pretty standard here, it leads to trauma’ was over with, the kid hugged him, all matted hair and crying eyes, and said “I’m going to do my best to make the world better for people like you, so you can rest”.

Ichigo, to this day, swears to heaven and hell that he did not cry, thank you very much.

And now the orange haired man was sure about his decision concerning teaching this kid how to fight because, already dead or not, the boy was clearly going to get himself killed in the future.

“Izuku,” no one blinked when Rukia addressed their now protégé by his given name “Can you tell us what drove you to thinking about killing yourself?”

The green eyed boy let out a shuddering exhale from his position in Ichigo’s arms, gave them a wary look, and told them _ everything _.

Suffice to say that they were not impressed.

**_____ Don’t Press Me _____**

Toshinori returned only to find his student hugging a young man with long orange hair, a petite lady looking ready to commit murder, a tattooed man with a serious frown on his face, and a man in traditional japanese gear staring right through his soul.

All Might would not have survived this long without listening to his instincts, and all of them were screaming that these people were the very definition of dangerous.

It came as no surprise that he conceded to their ‘we are going to teach and protect this pure child’ demands.

He de-transformed and beamed like the sun at them, happy to find people ready to defend of his pupil in case he failed him again.

“Dear, we have got another man to protect” Ichigo whispered to his bemused spouse.

Toshinori felt like face palming.

[ **_____ Press Me _____** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ioE_O7Lm0I4)

Izuku stands proud atop a mountain of garbage, and it is the most glorious moment of his existence. Kurosaki-sensei is frown-smiling at him, something approving in his chocolate gaze, his husband and friends nowhere to be found. All Might— he still cannot believe it, he would never let them down— beams at him, his dark eyes kind, and his rigid posture radiating almost as much confidence as Kurosaki-sensei’s relaxed and graceful stance.

_ [ Play Me ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aFUzvbkEvRk) _

There is something shudder inducing in Kurosaki-sensei’s demeanor that screams that he is not entirely human and he is convinced that such grace and mock laziness are similar to those of a predator that wants to lure its prey. 

Izuku swears that there is a yellow-eyed monster in his teacher’s sharp cocoa gaze that is waiting for the perfect moment to remind the world that there are creatures more evil and old than the insignificant villains — _ they are human and thus food _ — heroes fight nowadays. His teacher’s solemn demeanor when he asked why he was crying and salivating like a rabid dog <strike>_like a predator_</strike> after nightmare’s about white-masked creatures —they are hollow kid, so _ hollow _— would haunt him forever.

[ **STOP** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ioE_O7Lm0I4)

All Might clears his throat, snapping him out of his reverie, “You have worked hard, and now is time for your reward, young Midoriya”.

Izuku feels like exploding in joy.

All Might plucks a hair out of his blond mane, puts it under Izuku’s nose, and exclaims with cheer.

“Eat this”

Kurosaki-sensi face planted and Izuku really, really wanted to follow him.

[ **_____ Press Me _____** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=btPJPFnesV4)

Fighting giant robots was a pain in the ass and Izuku thanked his lucky stars that his teachers were almost worse than anything that the entrance exam —no matter if it was written or physical, his teachers were low key terrifying— could send his way.

That didn’t mean he was doing good.

He had not frozen up, going as far as being the first one to run in the direction of the robot field, leaving the other petrified participants in the dust. He dispatched various robots using hit-and-run strategies plus his own deductions about where their important part were localized— “_ I’m going to transform that brain of yours into a weapon to be feared, little Izuku” Urahara-san said with a paradoxically innocent smile on his face. _

Then the giant robot appeared and, once he saw those scared and resigned brown eyes, he knew he was fucked.

Izuku arrived home in a daze, took off his shoes, and buried his head on a sofa pillow under the concerned gazes of his mom and teachers.

No one said anything.

A dreadful week latter, there was a letter in the mailbox.

He ran and slammed his door shut on Kurosaki-sensei’s face— he was _ so _ apologizing later.

Izuku opened the letter, took a deep breath, and prepared himself for failure only to find All Might’s smiling face telling him he had passed, barely, but passed.

_ Midoriya Izuku was going to U.A, the school of his dreams. _

He hugged his mom and Kurosaki-sensei, tears falling from his green eyes.

_ He passed. _

**_____ Don’t Press Me _____**

Ichigo was bulldozing his way through U.A’s halls, a scowl on his face. He could feel his already flagging confidence in this school evaporating after they ‘let children fight robots and break their bones’. Shinji, Rukia, Renji and Kisuke were not far behind him.

“What are you doing here?” a dark haired man monotoned with the disposition of someone who hadn’t slept a single moment in their lives.

“We were not capable of containing him.'' Renji points at Ichigo’s _ everything _ as a way of explanation.

He felt offended when the possibly homeless man nodded in understanding.

Kisuke snorted.

“Yeah, I deal with heroes and students like that”

“You want to tell us that you deal with people like Ichigo on a daily basis?” Asked a pale Renji.

“If by that you mean idiots who throw themselves in dangerous situations in order to save people they barely know, and I have to somehow teach them sufficient self-preservation instincts to survive at least a week as a pro hero. Then yeah” he said to his flabbergasted, and outright impressed, audience.

Rukia looked ready to hug the poor, tired guy.

Renji and Kisuke were staring at the man with open respect.

Shinji, for his part, watched him with a considering gaze as if he was considering taking the man under his wing after he passes away.

Another cool detail about living in a superhero world: Soul Society became stronger.

And how could it not when they receive trained soldiers 24/7?

The heroes had a close interactions with their quirks and were already trained to survive in an antagonistic world. Once they go to Rukongai, their upbringing gives them an unfair advantage compared to the rest of the population and join the shinigami ranks with flying colors in the academy and with a speed not seen since the likes of Gin, Urahara or Ichigo himself.

So, the shinigami harvest the fruits of the hero world while disapproving of the whole thing. Ichigo should not be as surprised as he is.

There was even a cool lady by the name of Shimura Nana that Ichigo was especially fond of, and considering the number of kickass ladies in Ichigo’s life, she was an extraordinary individual. You can bet you are badass when you can make Kurotsuchi do your bidding, which she took advantage of to see how her family was doing.

He sighed.

Ichigo was worried about her. Around a decade ago, she suddenly lost almost all her energy and drive. No one dared to whisper a word in regards to it out of respect, and Ichigo had a horrible feeling that whatever happened was going to bite them in the ass sooner rather than later.

Kisuke put a hand on his shoulder and asked him why he was so serious. He replied that this society of heroes was falling apart and that he did not know what would happen when it did.

Kisuke grimaced, and it hurt Ichigo because he knew that meant he was right.

His husband had, once in a sudden boost of wisdom worthy of his years, told him that it was better to not keep pondering, that it led to regrets that a bleeding heart like his would never be able to carry.

_ It takes one to know one. _

How could Kisuke bear so much _ guilt _?

Thankfully, they arrived at the giant doors to the 1-A classroom.

Aizawa decided that it was a great idea to transform into a caterpillar in front of Ichigo.

“I’m going to have a fucking fit if you somehow transform into Aizen” said Ichigo to the yellow worm.

The hobo, as if knowing he was trolling with him, gave a disturbing smile and proceeded to enter, or rather, worm his way to, the classroom full of impressionable teenagers.

What the unlikely group found was chaos. Pure. Chaos.

Every single teen was screaming, a red haired kid asked if the man in the sleeping bag was dead, a boy with a fucking birdhead said in a very solemn way ‘what a mad banquet of darkness’ as if this was a common ocurrence — so a goth boy with a birdhead, what the hell? —, Izuku was obviously failing at socializing with both a guy with robot-like mannerisms and a floating girl.

Ichigo swore that even the bicolor haired, poker-faced kid was shouting his stupefaction in some internal way, and Ichigo thought that, if what the boy felt was at least similar to his own plight, he deserved an ice cream and a counselor visit at least.

“Did you just Karate Chop a conversation?” Asked a bewildered Bakugou to the guy that, Ichigo swore to the Aizen-Yhwach-God-combo, was part robot.

At least he forgot all about humanity’s doom.

He was too preoccupied feeling proud of his own kid finally making friends and feeling sorry for the tired teacher to gather enough brain power to worry about it.

[ **_____ Press Me _____** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YR5ApYxkU-U)

Shinji’s future right hand man, like all hardasses, decided that batling giant robots was not enough to prove the class’s general worth as heroes, and immediately threatened them with expulsion if they were last in a physical test in quirk use. Taking into account that none of the children had ever practiced their power's applications in combat, some of them hardly used them in everyday life for what he had seen, the test was very unfair no matter the ‘unexpected situations’ in hero life.

However, having a quirk since you were 4 years old beat possessing it only a couple of weeks.

Have to hand it to the kid. He tried. Hard.

But no human could compare to a kid with engines on his legs, a girl giving gravity the finger on behalf of a ball, a boy who had three arms instead of one in a strength test, or a frog lady that could jump over a football stadium.

He was losing. Badly.

His only opportunity to compete was the ball throwing challenge, and then Aizawa decided that it was a great idea to tell the kid that his failure to control his quirk that he has had for again, only, _ two fucking weeks _ was going to hinder his ability to become a hero. Ichigo knew he was right and he himself had given that same speech to some shinigami in training but that was after an acceptable time in the training regime, not an hour after meeting his students. Not everybody was like Ichigo.

Izuku, instead of letting that crush his dreams, goes ahead and crushes all expectations. Just because.

Ichigo is proud of his brat.

And judging by Aizawa’s serial killer smile, the dark haired man agrees with him.

Still, Izuku ends in the last place and Aizawa, in an obvious effort to not come off as a judgemental asshole, sprouts some crap about the entire exercise being a logical ruse.

The odour of that bullshit is damn intense in Ichigo’s humble opinion.

**_____ Don’t Press Me _____**

Ichigo observed his unconscious pupil who now rested on a nursing table. The kid looked more fragile than usual with his green messy hair, pale skin like the dead — and he tried to hold back a bitter laugh with moderate success—, tears dried on his freckled cheeks and with bags under his closed eyes.

Izuku broke his bones _ again _ , was put in an exercise that included the detonating punk _ again _ , and Ichigo felt like collapsing with how much _ anger _ and _ rage _ he was feeling _ again _.

He growled and glared with burnished golden-yellow eyes, and the heroes jumped and adopted a defensive position, wary —_ frightened _— looks on their faces.

Shiro took sadistic pleasure in that. Not that he blamed him.

Ichigo was fucking done with people partnering his kid with his lifetime bully, no matter that said partnering was due to a class exercise again. He couldn’t deal with this level of ignorance any longer, his baby was suffering, bleeding and hurting, all because the teachers in his life flourished in their incompetence. A blind man could see more distressing signs than all the adults in Izuku’s life combined, and Ichigo thought that he should cry —_ this is eerily similar to his own childhood. _

Except his dad and friends were _ aware _ and tried to _ help _ him where this boy had _ nothing _.

_ How could teachers, trained to detect the obvious toxic relationship signs between the explosive brat and his kid, allow this to continue? _

He glared at the professors that let what was clearly a rookie conduct a class of superpowered teens, and made his disappointment more transparent to Yagi who didn’t meet his eyes out of shame. Toshinori’s body language was a combination of sheepish and regretful like his world had crumbled all around him. Ichigo felt that the man didn't have the right to feel like that.

Ichigo was the one who encouraged Izuku to attend this nightmare of a school against all common sense.

_ Great fucking parenting right there. _

[ **_____ Press Me _____** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-sOadAaGiq4)

Izuku babbled at him about how excited he was for the opportunity to go to USJ on the bus to said place in an attempt to convince him that dream school was a safe space, — how the kid snuck a phone on a bus with Aizawa of all people was a conversation Ichigo was going to have with Kisuke about his teachings, he was not going to let this boy transform into a hooligan. Ichigo was happy for him, and for an activity that wouldn’t end up hurting the kid. _ It better not this time _.

It’s not like an amusement park trip would be dangerous.


	2. Two punks, two goths, and one emo walk into a bar (Part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn, this fic got the best of me. Even tho it's supposed to be a crack.  
This thing was just going to be three chapters long, no big deal. But then it got longer and goddamn longer till I had to separate the second chapter into three parts to not end up in a massive burnout (and I almost did). Then life got in the way with college almost murdering me and other stuff and I realized that my writing really needed more work, got kinda disillusioned, and I just pushed this fic to the side. The only good thing is that I have the rest more or less covered so expect weekly updates. I will not give up till I complete this bullshit.  
Sorry for the, holy shit, almost YEAR LONG wait. I'll try to manage better next time.

Fumikage woke up in a, frankly, very realistic simulation of an apocalyptic hurricane. In his confused state he could kind of distinguish the fallen debris and destroyed buildings, and unhurriedly tried to remember why he was here. He gulped when his brain catched up to the situation, shook his head and looked around, searching for villains or a way to get out of there until some _ pink? _ thing to his left began to wiggle with purpose.

The bird-headed boy jumped to get some space between him and the possible enemy, Dark Shadow hovering over him, ready to maim. The figure gave a gasp, putting their arms in front of their face in defence. Fumikage narrowed his eyes, heart beating hard, struggling with both the dense darkness of the, maybe if his deductions were correct, Squall Zone and his quirk’s increased power.

The figure raised one of their hands and, just as he was about to attack, began to sign _ ‘stop, please, stop’ _.

His thought process screeched to a halt. He only knew one pink and mute person and that was Koda, one of his classmates.

The goth relaxed his stance and extended a hand to the poor guy who aimed a crooked smile at him now that he was no longer in danger. Taking it, Koda rose to his feet and promptly tackled him just as a block of cement narrowly avoided their heads.

Right, the USJ was invaded by villains. Talk about a whiplash reminder.

His shadow extended to give some cover as they hopped to their feet, adrenaline pumping through their bodies. Ignoring his increased breath pattern and the fear on his veins, he morphed his shadow’s hands into long wisps, trying to imitate Kamui Wood’s signature move and trap as many foes as possible. With his right hand, he used what little he knew of JSL from Aizawa’s class and told Koda to knock out the struggling villains on Dark Shadow’s grip. The pink boy apparently understood because he began to punch the thugs in the back of their heads. Many passing out or, at least, being thrown for a loop.

The fight was on.

In the blissful moments they were free, they came up with a plan. Koda was going to use himself as a distraction, Fumikage would trap or beat them up with his quirk, and the mute boy would punch into submission the ones still conscious.

They repeated that strategy without a break, using every single dirty trick possible, and finally got out of the Squall Zone. Fumikage and Koda put their hands on their knees and panted for a while, tired after defeating so many villains.

Eventually they took a look at their surroundings and noted that they were in the Central Plaza, to their right they could make out the shape of Midoriya, Mineta and Asui hiding in the shore of the Flood Zone’s lake while, further to their left, Aizawa was being_ pulverized _ by a giant monster. A _ creature _ with an appearance that just screamed bad news to anyone with half a brain.

Fumikage looked at his companion after Aizawa was _ slammed _ into the ground again, aghast and very afraid for his teacher’s life.

His brain scrambled for an idea. Something, _ anything _, to save his teacher when All Might arrived.

Without a smile on his face.

The next instants were filled with so much epicness, elation and tension that neither him nor Koda moved much from their spot. The Symbol of Peace defeated all the minor thugs in a matter of seconds. And in the same swift movement, fetched Fumikage’s fellow goth and teacher from under the monster’s claws —whose injuries made him feel rather faint— and put the underground hero near them.

All Might’s sheer presence thankfully unfroze them from their shock. Understanding their duty, the boys carried their teacher to safety under the hero’s protective gaze.

Fumikage knew everything was going to be alright, since All Might was here.

From there, everything was a blur. The Number One Hero took down the monster. Their freckled classmate broke his arm in normal Midoriya fashion. Bakugou challenged anything and anyone that came his way. Todoroki maintained his resting bitch face and proceeded to gently remind everyone of his powerhouse status. Iida brought the rest of U.A’s faculty with him and the villains escaped.

Once they left the USJ, they signalled one of the paramedics so Aizawa-sensei got first aid and to a hospital. Koda waved at him before getting on another ambulance so the paramedics could check him out and was the first to get picked up by his frantic parents.

Fumikage sat down on the ground after the paramedics were finished with him, fatigue gnawing on his weary bones, and closed his eyes to rest. The day’s events catching up to him.

He was halfway to dreamland when someone shook him awake. Groaning, he blinked until the world was more than just a blurred purple blob.

The deadman who dared to wake him up had scarecrow-like features, tired eyes, gravity-defying purple hair and a totally awesome, dark and macabre MCR t-shirt. And was tall as fuck.

Perhaps he should reconsider murdering him, the guy has good taste. Besides, the eggplant looked frantic and worried sick.

Fumikage asked himself why the guy would go to him of all people and then remembered that he possibly was one of the last students left, since his parents were on a business trip. His closest relative was his auncle who lived in another prefecture. It would probably take them five hours to arrive. _ Great _.

The bird swatted the pale hand that was shaking his shoulder and snapped, “Do you need anything?”

And to his surprise, today another person signed to him _ again _. This time so fast that he had trouble keeping up with his rapid movements, pure desperation coloring the tired male’s face.

He cleared his throat, “I do not know much JSL, just the bare amount for combat or emergencies.”

The other let out a frustrated sigh, breathed in and out, grimaced, shrugged, pointed to himself, and said in the most unused and raspy voice Fumikage had heard in his life, “Father” He pointed to Fumikage’s black feathers, “Teacher”.

Comprehension dawned on him, and he told the teen that Aizawa-sensei was on his way to the nearest hospital. He also informed him that his father’s condition was not good, about his brave fight against the chicken monster— Noumu, he thought the hand creep called it—, and his own fear for Aizawa’s eyesight, quirk and future hero work.

Aizawa junior left the place in tears after thanking him for the information. In the future, he would find out that the idiot left his phone at home and ran out of Midnight’s class after the villain attack was announced through the school’s intercom.

His auncle finally arrived and gave him a big hug, whispering their worry in his ear with their usual smirk on their face. Now on his way to Auncle Luppi’s house, Fumikage thought about all the times that sign language was an extremely necessary element in all the interactions he had that day, and how his ignorance could have been deadly.

Later, he would ask Present Mic to teach him and his classmates JSL, the exuberant man delightfully taking the idea and transforming it into an after class project. He would then pester Aizawa’s kid to practice, thus finding out his name is Shinsou Hitoshi and how extraordinary the eggplant is.

Shinso and him would then become the best goth friends in the world and, together, dream of drowning the hero world in their edginess.

What a mad banquet of darkness.

**_____ Don’t Press Me _____**

Shoto was sure fighting villains should be more cathartic, and complicated, than whatever this was. Either his dad was a monster or the poor thugs were damn pathetic.

He would bet his money on both.

His father had taught him about the best approach to any emergency situation, overwhelm it and teach it who was boss. Even if that teaching was one of the few things he could respect of the burning trash can of a man, going overkill on them felt wrong, like kicking puppies.

He tried to get information from those he could catch, without any success. It seemed that the villains knew as much as he did about the possible motivations of who was in charge.

Or maybe it was because they were nearly unconscious once he got to the interrogation part of the poor excuse of a fight.

He put his foot on the ground, easily freezing more of them. Perhaps a little taunting would motivate them a bit? He turned to the most promising opponent, another total brute who evaded one of his last attacks, “It’s pathetic to lose against a simple child. Get a hold of yourself” he drawled.

Now he needed to go for the kill, “You’re an adult, aren’t you?”

He thought out loud while he waited for his bait to catch, about how their plan was to separate them and then go for the kill. As soon as the last word of his monologue left his mouth, the brute and another idiot finally snapped and tried to attack him, one going from his front and the other from his back. Making his poker faced version of a frown, Shoto changed his strategy and froze everyone on his radious minus their faces, then tried his interrogation skills again, pointing out that they were going to die of hypothermia if he did not unfreeze them completely.

It worked, one of the thugs told him they all came to kill All Might, which would have made him snort if he had not mastered the art of little facial expressions. So, in summary, these morons were daring, stupid and downright delusional.

Still, no one could claim such absurdity without some kind of master plan. One so good it could justify the foolishness he had seen today.

Shoto knocked all the thugs he had trapped quickly and ran out of the Landslide Zone towards the Central Plaza, finding All Might of all people in trouble. He promptly froze the chicken-like monster, ice rapidly spreading from were his left foot made contact with the ground. The rising ice fog matched his chilled breathing, his arms couldn’t cease their tremors. That and the slowing beating of his heart in spite of the adrenaline in his slender frame were the first signs of quirk overuse, and his potential death by villains if he was not careful.

Biting his lower lip in an anxious habit his father had yet to beat out of him, Shoto activated his fireside just the bare amount to slowly lower his temperature— before, when he was younger and unable to even _ stand _ the idea of having the same fire quirk that tore his family apart, he used it hastily and put his body into shock. From there, he learned to be more careful so as not to hurt his siblings even more.

While he stood, immobile, on the battlefield — a consequence of the concentration the fine use his quirk required to not be manifested into revolting flames—, he saw Bakugou holding the smoke villain with a damn vicious look in his red eyes. _ Huh, so the man had a real body _. He took note of that for future reference.

The leader of the operation, who had a bizarre obsession with both videogames and hands, ordered the black creature — that he now found out was called Nomu— to attack Bakugou. He tried to make more ice regardless of the black dots that appeared in his vision, and began to prepare himself for more quirk overuse. All Might barely rescued the explosive boy before that, and Shoto took the opportunity to step back a bit to assess the situation.

And he was surprised when, out of nowhere, All Might and the Nomu had a fight that he would _ remember _ for the rest of his days. A reminder of his standing, of the reason he was even conceived.

The shockwaves were _ massive _ . Pure unrestricted _ power _ behind each move.

His dad wanted him to top _ this man _ ? The one who was the very definition of a hero maxed up to a level that was unreachable for mortal men? This _ hero _ that went well beyond belief and human flesh? The one his father never succeeded against?

“It’s almost pitiful how far father went to even lick at his feet” Murmured Shoto, awed and humbled at the same time “He tortured my siblings, my _ mom _ , to surpass the being closest to _ god _ that humanity has” He chuckled, a heartbroken sound he couldn’t believe came from him “Father, you have always been a demon but I never thought you were such a _ fool _”

After All Might’s fight and the green haired kid’s bone breaking escapade— _ Did he suffer from quirk incompatibility like Touya-nii? _— the UA faculty arrived. With them came several individuals dressed in shihakushos— the well known uniform of the Soul Organization. Weird how they always knew when to arrive. Even if it was the first time they had appeared on an incident with no casualties.

Wait, the creepy hand dude was saying something.

“Of course the most OP characters had to arrive at the end of the PvP to poke around in the fucking _ garbage _ left afterwards” He snarled, an ugly thing with raspy accentuations “Master always hates it when The Dead get involved on our business” His face morphed into something almost sweet, his voice a purr.

_ What the actual fuck? _

The mist-man told the _ mad _ hand-obsessed guy that they should be escaping— so at least one of the idiots was _ sane _— and his point became damn clear when the white haired dimwit was shot in his precious hands. The dark mass of the mist villain extended and the masterminds of the whole ‘destroy All Might’ operation made a run for it.

Well, shit.

Perhaps Shoto should cut on the cursing but he was tired, confused and really wanted a nap without his dick father breathing down his neck. Or without the sperm donor in general, he wouldn’t complain.

Later, to his total relief, he was picked up by frantic Fuyumi who hugged him with tears in her eyes. She checked him over to make sure he was uninjured, looking too much like Mother for it to be the comfort he thought she was aiming for. The Todoroki heir grimaced once he noticed she was searching for burn marks unconsciously.

Shoto arrived home, ate the cold soba his sister made for him, and took his long awaited nap. Before sleep possessed him, he concluded that the villains should really up their game.

Maybe a power up or two would increase their performance and level down the _ moron-ess _.

**_____ ** [ **Press Me** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3ofUO7agkL4) ** _____**

Hitoshi woke up after one hour of sleep. New record there.

A look at his alarm clock made him groan in exasperation. The comfortable blankets under him were tempting and he really wanted to return to them, damn his dad’s prescribed morning run. Just the idea of participating in some activity other than a catnap had him almost reconsidering his life choices.

But Hitoshi would never regret the day he reached out to the awesome Erasure Hero and got a home out of it.

The teen liked the quiet atmosphere of his new house where he wasn’t obliged to never talk in fear of his villainous quirk. The smell of cinnamon and coffee in the mornings, his new cat’s soft purring and how sweet it was to have a full belly in a long time. As he sipped on an espresso darker than his soul, the purple haired boy reminded himself that this, right here, right now, was the greatest gift in the world.

Talking with the mist guy that awful day when he felt helpless and alone was his best idea by a long shot. His new dad got him like no other person did, goth stuff included. He remembers the day the man, with his tired reassurance and soft expression, and maybe a tiny amount of mirth, taught him about all the stuff a baby goth like him needed to know. Took his shaking — cold, always cold and lonely — hands and told him how proud and happy he was of his progress, in that moment up to ten words a week. While embarrassing, having burst into tears in his father’s embrace was an experience that he would never change for anything else, ever.

After their morning bonding time, aka five kilometers of pure torture, his old man told him he had to do whatever on USJ. Not that he paid much attention to his usual drawl.

He forgot his phone when he left the house, to his annoyance. But still, life was good.

Sleep, not much.

**_____ Don’t Press Me _____**

Ryo, better known as Hound Dog, hated dealing with the Soul Organization with all his might. He knew false smiles when he saw them, the stench of their platitudes a foul taste on his tongue, his gut churned with the thought of the million excuses they made in the face of civilian casualties as if they could predict the outcome.

One of those bastards was now talking with Ectoplasm a good fifteen yards from him —because no self-respecting animal would be caught near them and Nezu liked to pretend the S.O didn’t exist; still dumping them on his poor old staff was totally unfair—, making some concerning questions like _ did you feel a powerful, crushing, presence? _ or _ has someone from the school been acting weird? _ When Ectoplasm, like any other normal human being, asked what the flea they were implying; the interviewer, who introduced himself as Kira, bit his tongue and diverted the conversation to safer topics.

Stinky Soul Organization would always stink. Ugh.

Kira had an easy going expression on his very pale face, his bony complexion more akin to a corpse than any living, breathing, human being— quirk or not. He never blinked, never moved more than necessary, staying still like a broken record. Sometimes his chest stopped moving on its own and would begin inflating and deflating again once he caught someone staring at the strange display. Eyes that had no business being that blue seemed to penetrate mortal boundaries and stare at powers and things beyond human understanding.

Kira’s existence felt _ wrong _, like he shouldn’t be among the living.

After all, Ryou’s nose never _ lied _ and every single member of that _ abominable _ group always carried the scents of incense...

And death.

**_____ ** [ **Press Me** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tkz0d60JYuA) ** _____**

Kira Izuru woke up in the middle of a very important Squad meeting, in which they are determining if they truly needed to replace the Captain Commander when he outdrank himself. Izuru probably passed out all thanks to last night’s haiku gathering, after trying to put said Captain in shame by alcohol consumption. _ And the headache wasn’t worth it, Hisagi-kun _.

His vote was not necessary in the end by how unanimous the decision was.

That didn't mean he escaped punishment. Captain Rose had overly strict policies over the strangest of things. So, all in all, he was going to die.

Or, apparently, be assigned to a mission under Urahara which was kind of the same thing.

_ U.A’s traitor, here I come _, Izuru thought to himself in exasperation because who cared about human affairs? Still, he was going to use Wabisuke on the traitor’s neck for complicating his tranquil life and bringing up very bad memories.

At least having a weredog sniffing around his business beat dealing directly with Urahara.

Izuru pitied the bastard who married him.

**_____ Don’t Press Me _____**

Kisuke was not an idiot but here were the 46, much to his chagrin, underestimating his intelligence again. Did they seriously believe that such a shallow excuse would fool him so easily? Convenience was a concept so far out of reach for those buffoons, that saying they put Ichigo and him on this mission purely for getting rid of Kyoraku’s nagging about his never ending boringness, made more logical sense than their insistence in how easy it is to put his marriage on human sensitive missions, thanks to their cooperativeness and residence situation. His husband’s possible emotional commitment to such an operation of little scale was more an inconvenience— _ ha! _— than an asset like on other missions.

It wasn’t like the Central had not made clear how much they despised the Hero System and all it entailed. Hell, Ichigo and him disapproved too and had digged some _ interesting _ things here and there, from some of U.A’s more coveted and worse mistakes to some curious things about its very own Yagi Toshinori. Alas, the Todoroki case was going to catch on fire like their eldest child at any moment, pun not intended.

If the 46 wanted Ichigo and him to do the dirty work all they needed was to _ ask _.

Kisuke was bored anyways.

And about the two hundred year old war with the human version of a cryptic? Well, it certainly sounded like a _ delightful _ scientific experience.

**_____ Don’t Press Me _____**

Ichigo woke up with a shudder and the first thought to cross his mind was _ Kisuke is bored _. Part of his job as a spouse was to deter his idiot husband from causing the apocalypse.

At least it was going to make this whole mission _ a lot _ more interesting. He really needed to kill something, Hollow Zangetsu was getting a bit too _ stabby _ for the security of _ everyone _.

Except for the kid, but alas, Izuku-kun was Hatchling. And Ichigo was of course not going to ding into what Shirou meant by it.

His phone vibrated from the nightstand.

Getting a really bad feeling on his gut, he answered the call. Not missing the official logo from U.A on the screen.

“Yeah?”

“Kurosaki Ichigo?” Asked the caller. “You are one of Midoriya Izuku’s emergency contacts, right?”

The churning on his insides got worse as he answered with a deadpan, “Yeah, I am”.

The person on the other side of the line paused a moment, probably to gather strength, before continuing. “Today the Unforeseen Simulation Joint was attacked by villains” They paused before dropping the bomb. “During class 1-A’s lesson”

In a perimeter of about three kilometers, many animals from sparrows to cockroaches took flight. Not long after they had left the primaces, many a passersby felt a crushing force push them to the ground. An uninhabited building collapsed from the sheer _ pressure _ and smaller insects like mosquitoes didn’t make it out alive. It was all over the news.

For his part, Ichigo may have beaten Yoruichi’s shunpo record ten times over.

**_____ ** [ **Press Me** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QZXc39hT8t4) ** _____**

Sota was your typical large blue haired man who had a sound based quirk. It was a fairly simple one, kinda tiny sound waves capable of disorienting anyone in the near vicinity. Not strong like Present Mic’s but useful all the same.

His control over his quirk and contradicting sneakiness made running away from the cops from more than one robbery easy as cake. And mama said that his hide and seek games would not help Sota find a job, _ look who’s laughing now! _

Sota loved lemonade and all types of refreshing drinks and his dry throat was begging for one of mama’s extra icy mint smoothies. The heat and smoke from the burning urban landscape were going to kill him from heat overload, he was sure of it.

The reason Sota was here was fairly simple. He, too, was a well versed thug with all that it implies and, _ still _, fairly unknown. Hell, only some underground heroes were aware his villain name was The Trumpeter. It was shameful for a villain with his active years to not be more than a passing mention on some report paper.

So, when his opportunity to strike fear into the heart of society came in the form of a black mist and a disturbing teenager that really needed some moisturizer, Sota took it.

And then there was the ugly man in formal wear that, well, was freaky as fuck.

Sota preferred not to think about him.

Creepy Dolly’s plan better go excellent or Sota was going to snap that little birdy neck, terrifying guardian or not. Two weeks hearing him nerd out about video games and complaining about society almost killed what was left of Sota’s patience.

Following the topic of delicate necks, yesterday he had the joy of kicking a very cute vigilante. The thing was lithe, fierce and underweight with a lanky disposition, impressive scars and daring cerulean eyes— his absolute favorite type to break.

Cutie gave an incredible fight with his incredible grip on martial arts and ingenious use of his fire quirk. Hell, the doll almost beat them up to a crisp. It was only thanks to their superior numbers and a surprise attack with both an ice and temperature quirk that they were able to win at all.

Once they had got him to where they wanted, Sota just had to tell the doll about his incredible connections, because he know had them and _ it was amazing _, to see his bright eyes being filled with despair.

It was such a shame that cutie escaped when things were about to get interesting.

Now Sota would have to do with the 1-A brats, what a pity.

**_____ ** [ **Press Me** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ol_1N1AkSe0) ** _____**

Dabi woke up with bruises and cuts on an abandoned alley. Scoffing to himself, he began to asses the damage and burn any major bleeding he had on his body. Damn bastards got him real good, he felt aches all over his charred body from the amount of time he was knocked out.

Shit, how long was he out cold for?

“Damn it, I need to go—” He paused, his mind had that fuzzy feeling often associated with quirk overuse, also his body was fucking _ burning _ “—somewhere” He groaned, supporting his throbbing head in his hands.

He felt like throwing up.

“Sorry, sis” Shit, he really was delirious if he was thinking about her at a time like this, “I may not be able to get out of this one”

He suddenly became alert when he heard steps that were approaching little by little. His trained instincts made him notice they were made with purpose, as if whoever was approaching was accustomed to being silent but this time they made themselves noticed to alert him. He shuddered, his flushed, scar-free skin raised in goosebumps.

It felt like the stride of a trained assassin.

“Hey, you look lonely there. Mind telling me how you got that beaten up on this fine evening?” A chilling voice said.

[ ** _Play Me_ ** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lVdIf8BJME8)

  
  


In the middle of his hysterics, Dabi remembered a story his mother once told him, about the snowy landscapes of her country and the legacy of their ice quirk. It was not the story of heroes and villains he was used to, filled with struggle and conquer, but of something eery, ancient, that spoke about dragons and cold and death. She had said, desperately and shaking his shoulders, that they always had control over their lives, because they knew when they were going to die.

Dabi, with wide eyes and in a quiet voice used to whisper secrets, had asked “How do we know?”

She had brightened up, eyes distant, relieving a fond memory from before Father.

_ Because when you are dying, my sweet boy, the Angel of Death whispers to you. _

The steps stopped.


	3. Two punks, two goths, and one emo walk into a bar (Part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here it is!  
the next chapter is going to take a bit more, but will be posted in two weeks max.

The incident in USJ was an absolute disaster, Naomasa had not dealt with so many angry parents since the Sports Festival Disaster some years ago. A kid had just up and ignited himself, and almost all the stadium, in fire.

The news of the oldest Todoroki’s death was going to haunt him for the rest of his career, no matter if it was quirk overuse born from the same mental instability that made the child’s mother pour boiling water on her youngest son. He will always think that said tragedy could have been avoided.

The real tragedy was that Todoroki Touya had presented signs of mental instability since he had started his second year on U.A.

Taking a deep breath, he began interviewing, and calming down, another set of distressed set of parents, this ones insect like. He maintained a relaxed and professional posture to make his platitudes more believable— how did his friend made handling civilians look easy was a skill he would kill for.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Nezu trying to reassure a young man with long orange hair and another man— his spouse if the ring on his ring finger and possessive way he was holding the other male was any indication— with a relaxed smile that contrasted pretty well with the chilling look he was sending in the principal’s direction.

“Why the fuck did I let my kid attend this bullshit excuse of a school if the heroes here can’t even protect him?”

Naomasa was downright impressed by the man’s ability to growl.

“We always take the safety of our students as a number one priority. Two of our colleagues are in the hospital and there were no more injured other than the two of them and your child. Who, may I add, was hurt by his own self-destructive quirk” Remarked Nezu.

In the blink of an eye, the atmosphere became heavy, as if the gravity had increased tremendously in a couple of seconds and was slowly crushing them like little insects. Every person in the area outside the USJ felt their breath falter, the constricting feeling in their bodies, the gripping horror in their hearts. A brown eyed woman, one of the many parents present, was looking directly at the orange haired man, primal fear on her face. In contrast, the blond husband broadened his smile, his hat shadowing his gaze, and began to move his cane from side to side, emitting an aura that he had not felt since he had the misfortune of meeting All For One.

“It seems you have enraged my poor husband, Nezu-san. Shall we discuss this matter in a way that does not blame dear Izuku-kun for injuries he should not have in the first place, deplorable circumstances or not?”

Naomasa could count on his fingers the amount of times Nezu had been intimidated. Scratch that. The principal had only been intimidated by two things, the first being the scientists who used to experimented on him and the second was happening this very moment.

“If you want, we can discuss the issue in my office in the company of some green tea”

“Excellent. Naomasa-san, would you be so kind as to join us?”

_ This man knows my name? How? My identity has only been disclosed to underground or All Might related cases. _

“Ye—Yes. No. No problem” Said the wide eyed detective.

“Then my office is in the main building, Urahara-san”

_ Urahara-san? That name rings a bell. Where have I heard it? _

“Do not fret, dear principal, we don’t mind the walk”

**_____ ** [ **Press Me** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TqG9i1WTins) ** _____**

Of all the times to encounter the man responsible for Aldera Junior High’s shut down it had to be on U.A’s worst moment. Nezu pondered the chances of getting out of the situation without unfavorable consequences, and felt short when he met the grey tinted gaze of Urahara Kisuke. Never had he seen that spark of intelligence on any other human— or as human as this man pretended to be if his spouse’s intimidation tactics were anything to go by.

They sat in a circle in his office chairs, he selected to sit behind his desk to give him an air of authority and professionalism while separating him from the non-humans. Nezu hated that he had to resort to the oldest trick in the book to deceive himself into a false sense of security, and the twitch on the extravagant man’s lips made said non-human’s amusement clear.

Sipping his tea to give himself a sense of control, the rat-dog-bear spoke.

“What exactly are you two doing in this school? Or, specifically, what is one of the S.O.'s intelligence division doing here?” He said calmly, gesturing at Urahara “I do not believe that this pleasant meeting has only to do with your son”

Naomasa made a noise of surprise. So he had finally caught on.

The man hid a teasing smirk behind a paper fan he took out of nowhere.

“I didn’t know I was so famous. You are making me blush”

[ _ You better stop here, dudes. _ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oh8zcbC_Dcw)

The husband hit the blond on the shoulder, much to the principal’s and detective’s surprise, growling, “We don’t have time for your bullshit now, Kisuke”.

He turned to his flabbergasted audience.

“I wanted to send Izuku to this sad excuse of a school and make him happy. I also want to end the hero crap you idiots have going on, make humanity a better place for it, and to take a damn nap with my traumatised kid that was,  _ again _ , injured thanks to the security incompetence the most prestigious high school of Japan cannot help but ignore,” he took a deep breath and snarled, “Where are we? In fucking  _ Hogwarts _ ?”

He walked up to Nezu’s desk, slammed two heavy folders on it, leaned on his arms until he was towering over him, and growled, “From now on, Kisuke and I will have unlimited access to the school, bare no special circumstances. We will make sure you are able to safely train and protect your students, and proceed to stop any dangerous training regime that will be more harmful than beneficial. If we consider a villain investigation relevant, we will participate and help to solve it in any way we deem correct. You will inform us of any idea you have concerning the students’ security and we will make our opinion damn clear”.

He pointed to the documents he had previously thrown on the desk. Nezu looked at them briefly, a contemplative look on his face.

“As you wish, Kurosaki-san”

Nezu put a stamp on both spouses’ curriculum.

“Welcome to U.A”

**_____ Don’t Press Me _____**

Before exiting the office, Kisuke added with a smug note on his voice “Do not forget about me, Nezu-san. I still have to make amends regarding Izuku-kun’s situation”

Naomasa and Nezu shuddered, Aldara’s state after the blond’s visit was  _ disturbing _ to say the least. It was the weird glowing glue thing that no one knew if it was alive or not, and the paw marks, those horrible paw marks...

Who knew cute little black cats and pink haired girls could be so terrifying?

Kisuke walked calmly, the sound of his sandals the only sign that he was somewhat present in the world of the living. Being alert was a habit so ingrained in him that he did it unconsciously while immersed in his thoughts, and with this he took note of the children who were watching him with poorly hidden dread. It was quite annoying.

And absolutely adorable.

But, no matter how entertaining their reactions were, Kisuke had to think of a rapid solution because Izuku-kun was going to end up dying a second time at this rate. Sadly, he had enough experience with Ichigo to know that things like common sense and self-preservation were not convincing enough arguments to make the little bean stop hurting himself. And, unlike his husband, the child didn’t have any of those useful Hollow abilities, despite Izuku-kun’s incredible fullbring powers. If only his husband wasn’t  _ that bad _ of a teacher...

Oh.

Kisuke felt like face-palming.

So, Izuku-kun needed someone both strict but that, hopefully, wouldn’t try to murder him too soon into his training. And strong too.

Someone like Ururu.

The last time he had seen her was when Yoruichi-san used to date that cute single mother, whose hair was suspiciously similar to Izuku-kun’s now that he thought about it…

His easy going smile became disturbing.

Well, no better way of acquiring information than from the direct source.

Now, where did he put his phone?

**_____ Don’t Press Me _____**

Students openly stared at the man straight out of a Sengoku fashion magazine, who had a goddamn  _ phone _ of all things on his hand, oozing a dangerous aura. His calm stride and sharp gaze screamed dangerous to their barely trained instincts.

The phone rang for a while, it rang and rang and rang. It felt some kind of western stand-off.

“Kisuke?” A sleepy female voice yawned.

“Hello, Yoruichi-san. Long time no see” Said the man with a shit eating grin.

“Why are you calling? Are you planning to kill someone? My schedule is a little packed at the moment” She paused, finally coming to her senses “But if it’s for your little green jellybean I may be free this weekend. That Nezu principal looks tasty”

The, up to that moment frozen in shocked horror, crowd of students began to run like headless chickens, making a total disaster in a matter of seconds. Their senpais tried to calm them down, with no visible success. A pipsqueak of a boy with a typical shounen rival-esque haircut looked overwhelmed and ready to faint. Another much langer one was torn between laughing and taking the exchange, and the rowdy children, seriously. The female of the group didn’t take her companions' bullshit and was already cackling on the floor like a maniac.

“No. No. We can no longer do that. This is a civilized world after all” He moved his hand in a shushu motion towards the scared children. Annoying and entertaining certainly described them.

“Then what? You cannot just wake a cat up from her nap and expect it to go well, you dummy”

“How can I be treated this way by my best friend in the world?” He put a hand on his heart “I was just wondering how my little ragtag family was doing in my absence”.

“You need Ururu for fullbring training, right?”

The man’s smile  _ widened even more _ . “That too”

“Well… Jinta is on another MMA championship and his soccer team is doing well, maybe this time they’ll be able to reach the finals. I don’t know what or where the hell Tessai is, betting on Hawaii though… Oh! And Ururu is with Chad on that anti-deforestation campaign” Despite the fact that they could only hear her through the phone, the students were sure she shrugged “I don’t even understand what a marine biologist is doing on an anti-deforestation campaign? Pretty sure she got those weird habits from you, Kisuke”

“Remember that all ecosystems are interconnected, my dear cat”

“Okay, okay. Need Chad’s info?”

“If you were so kind? It is obvious little Izuku is going to bite more than he can chew, he gets that from my cute berry”

“Yeah, right” Again, they swore her mannerisms transmitted via phone, this time she rolled her eyes. ”I will send you a message. Remember to call me if things get entertaining, otherwise I will have your neck”

“Oh, and about that cute mother you were dating...”

“Bye, bye. Kisuke!”

She hung up.

Ignoring the irritating feeling that came in when his curiosity was not satisfied, Kisuke continued on his merry way.

The ring from his message box a few seconds later dissuaded the blond from doing something stupid, like hunting down his very dangerous friend so they could have a much needed  _ conversation _ .

At the end of the day, the student body of U.A knew not to mess with Midoriya Izuku.

**_____ Don’t Press Me _____**

That night Urahara-san went for a walk, so Kurosaki-sensei stayed with Izuku. Unfortunately, the child's mother was out of town on some business—  _ “I’m going to have tea with an old fling of mine, Kurosaki-san, thank you for taking care of my Izuku” the flustered lady had said _ — and it would be a while before she returned. The Midoriya matriarch had cried with her son over the phone, blaming herself and her selfishness for not being there when her baby boy needed her, Izuku sobbed back that she was the best parent in the world and she deserved a break. The spouses just stood aside and endured the awkward interaction.

Since sentiments and emotions were not something Urahara-san did—nor was the abnormal amount of alcohol he had consumed— the shop owner decided that a walk was the best way of getting rid of the pesky leftover feelings the dramatic duo of mother and child exuded, so now Izuku was alone with Kurosaki-sensei and itched for comfort.

The thing that weirded him out was that his teacher was collecting all the soft things from the store-house and was building a glorified pillow fort. He was grunting that he couldn't believe that his instincts were asking him to behave like a mother hen, only to answer himself — this time with a warbling voice— that he should shut the fuck up and finish the nest. While Izuku was not a nest expert, he was sure that the fluffy abomination the orange haired man was concocting was about to collapse.

He didn't have the heart to say that to Kurosaki-sensei.

After three attempts at making the thing stable and using words that made Izuku blush, the sharp eyed man stood proudly over a more or less solid amalgamation of pillows, plushies, blankets and clothes. Again, Izuku didn’t have the heart to tell him he had constructed better pillow forts when he was a toddler.

Kurosaki-sensei was so preoccupied relishing over his achievement, he didn’t notice how the freckled kid’s eyes fogged over. Izuku went from nervously trying to tell his teacher that his nest was a shame to humanity as whole, to quiet and subdued, face lowered to the floor with a lost look on his face.

The kid couldn't stop thinking about how the ghoulish villain almost disintegrated his classmate's face, that two of his teachers were in critical condition, and that he had broken his bones again and it didn't help at all. The pain did no more than hinder the classmates and teachers he was set on rescuing.

Izuku was useless and he really wanted his mother here with him. To fall in her embrace and never let go.

“Hey, kid. Kid. Snap out of it.  _ Izuku-kun _ ” A firm voice broke through his dream-like state. He jerked up.

“Ye— Yes”

“Do you want to join me” He gestured towards the nest. Izuku hugged himself.

“Are you sure? Am I not an inconvenience?”

He was suddenly picked up. Letting out an undignified squeak, he clenched to the strong arms that enveloped him and buried his face on his teacher’s shoulder, hiding his rising embarrassment.

“Not at all” Whispered Kurosaki-sensei, laying them down on the soft construction. 

Izuku closed his teary eyes and dreamed of strawberries and safety.

**_____ ** [ **Press Me** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0J0CzpM2yKI) ** _____**

Shiro Zangetsu was a Hollow, he didn’t, couldn’t, feel anything.

_ “Where was his drive?” _

He knew Ichigo was the one who sustained him, a damn good excuse to satisfy, without the repercussion of thinking too deeply about it, his instinct to protect the man.

_ “Where was his heart?” _

His justifications had saved him, nourished him, kept him safe. Until the kid. The insufferable, too good for this world, lovely no snack of a child. He made him acknowledge his contradicting existence— his desires buried in the flesh, blood, and bone of his sternum, in the hole of his heart.

_ “Where was his soul?” _

The little hatchling in King’s, and thus his, arms made him want to indulge in tenderness and cute practices that went against his very predatory nature. He was a Hollow, a creature made to strike fear in the souls of men, and children were a foreign concept to him outside of occasional appetizers.

_ “Where was—”  _

“Stop whispering your musings like a fucking creep and help me get over my existential crisis, asshole!”

Ossan Zangetsu opened his mouth and said “ _ Where was his drive? _ ”

Shiro screamed.

**_____ ** [ **Press Me** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gxs2vS2gJ-c) ** _____**

Like any normal spy, Kisuke hated not having the whole picture figured out by yesterday, so he did what any self-respecting ex-member of the Onmitsukido would do, put on some field work, as much as he hated it. To accomplish enough tolerance to do his homework, the blond had drunk all the liquor in the store, including Yoruichi's secret stash, and started on his way towards Hero Politics enlightenment.

His evening stroll was supposed to be a tranquil affair, his only goal was to interview the vigilante Phoenix Flame who, according to his contact, had fought The Trumpeter. With the latter being the only thug who knew the brains_—_ the ‘ _ real, fucked up leader of the goddam creepy hand doll’ _ according to Sota-san_—_ behind the so-called League of Villains.

The uncreativeness of it all was going to kill him.

After waving and smiling creepily to Aizawa’s purple haired kid_—_ who was trying to rescue a cat from a lamppost, the blond didn’t feel like asking_—_ Kisuke felt the effects of the alcohol and whatever else he had consumed kick in. Now in the right mindset, he searched for a white ribbon and  _ saw _ .

( _ Maki Akemi, 27 years old, wants to inherit the business from his family, excellent at teamwork, eager to help in any way he can, good leader… _ )

His experiment had yielded very promising results, it sure would make up for tomorrow’s hangover. Even if there were hundreds of ribbons, the little details each one gave will help tremendously with his research_—_ the formula only permitted him to see very superficial reiatsu markers, what the individual wanted you to see, not unlike when other more spiritual folks like Shinigami or Hollows didn’t go around displaying their entire personality via their reiatsu.

Kisuke took to the buildings, shunpo-ing from one to another until he arrived at the slums. He then searched nearby alleys, looking for ribbons. His calculations gave the man he was pursuing a window of less than a day, and his injuries were so severe he could not have moved much.

_ (No name, early twenties, several injuries from a recent fight, his body is  _ ** _burning_ ** _ ,  _ ** _holy shit! _ ** _ What the  _ ** _hell_ ** _ is going on? _ )

_ Bingo. _

He found his target just as the dark haired man was waking up, and then his gut felt like punching him with an overpowering feeling of dread.

Kisuke was not someone who believed in fairytales or anything of the sort, fantasy had no place in a world of science and logical explanations. Nevertheless, his assassin and soldier days had taught him that instincts were to be always acknowledged and taken into consideration at the hour of making a decision, and something on the young man he was stalking woke them up and raised them to blaring alarms in his head.

His hunch was slowly turning into a ravenging best, like a hound who found a blood trail.

The kid looked like a little push would finally break him. He carried himself with the air of someone used to various levels of abuse and didn’t seem to have any problem with it. Like a kicked puppy, he drawled that he needed to go. Where? Kisuke wasn’t sure. Maybe another ally or just a secure enough place to crash.

The feeling in his gut was getting more uncomfortable.

Kisuke was planning to just cure the poor boy, get his information in exchange, and be done with him. But something fierce in those azure eyes reminded him of bold amber and messy orange bangs, of the opportunity of rectifying an error he made centuries ago and of finally tasting the sweet nectar of redemption. He knew he was sold when the lad whispered something along the lines of  _ ‘Sorry, sis. I may not be able to get out of this one’ _ .

The gray eyed man would later tell Ichigo that he brought the kid for many reasons; from information gathering, to a strange whim, to a drunken incident, to a hunch that brought gold blackmail material. Never would he tell him that, plain and simple, for the first time in his life, instinct seized any rational thought. That for a moment he became his husband by making a decision on some raw and sentimental feeling on his very  _ soul _ .

He sighed, took out his paper fan, cursed a certain orange haired man for making him soft, and smiled. He made sure that his steps were purposeful, and took note of the way the kid tensed up.

“Hey, you look lonely there. Mind telling me how you got that beaten up on this fine evening?”

The child stooped tending his wounds and watched him warily, blue flames flickering on his fingertips. His body prepared to make a quick exit, not underestimating the strange man in ancient japanese gear.  _ Good _ .

“Just minding my business, getabushi” He snarked not unlike a certain strawberry, and metaphorically stabbed his black heart in the process. Kisuke swallowed behind the fan.

“Oh, my, my. Someone is testy today”

“Fuck off, old man”

Kisuke hummed, giving the appearance of considering something he had already decided on, “You know what, boy? You could stay in this unsavory place, possibly with the risk of developing an infection, and play with your chances of surviving tonight.”

“And?” The kid said, even if he had a good idea of where this conversation was going.

“Or you could come to my very comfy home, eat my food, and have a warm place to sleep tonight” Well, it would not be the first time Kisuke took a stranger home on a whim. He could get out of this one with his pride somewhat intact.

The lad raised a narrow eyebrow, not buying the fact that the offer came from a place of charity. In the underground, everyone always wanted something and this man looked like a drug dealer, human trafficker or both.

(Talking to a possible criminal instead of some _Angel of Death_ is relieving in a way Dabi didn't think possible)

“A penny for your thoughts?” The blond said after a while, a smirk on his face.

“What’s the catch?”

“Nothing. I’m doing this from the kindness of my heart” He put a hand on his chest and shook his paper fan, as if offended by the implication that he was anything less than a saint.

The injured man snorted before trying to get on his feet. He grimaced in pain, some semblance of a blush on what was left of his cheeks thanks to the effort. It was obvious the dark haired boy was being a bullheaded moron, boasting how little he needed the shopkeeper’s help. Kisuke willed away a snicker at the display and prayed that, once the kid meets Ichigo, they would not try something as stupid as out-stubborn each other.

“You know, there exists a rumor that caught my undivided attention,” Kisuke began, deducing that the young man was too cautious to be carried away by the promises he had told him, no matter how sincere he was, “A villain, codename _The Trumpeter_, had the misfortune of stumbling over an objective of mine”.

The patchwork doll turned to look at him, eyes sharp.  _ Bingo _ . “So you finally cut the bullshit”.

Kisuke shrugged, not losing his momentum, “Their information is so scant that even intelligence on their hair color would cost gold on some underground networks”.

The runt barely managed to hide his growing interest. He gave a laugh, getting a middle finger and a scowl in response, and hided his genuine smile behind his fan. He inclined his head so that his hair no longer covered his left eye and winked, “My contacts told me that a cute little vigilante had the pleasure of getting all the juicy details just yesterday”.

His companion frowned, still wary or not believing his luck, “Why not ask the man himself, with those contacts of yours it should be easy to hack police databases”.

“Our poor guy and his buddies were found dead a couple of hours after his capture” He widened his azure eyes, no doubt afraid to meet the same fate, “As I said, my target holds their cards very close to their chest”.

Kisuke was manipulating and buffling up his words a little, making them appear both nonchalant and true. While, yes, the man and the people he used to hang out with had been killed, the only one who saw the incident between the vigilante and them had been the shinigami assigned to collect their souls. It was the reason he had sought the pierced lad.

After all, venturing  _ Hell _ wasn’t pretty.

The teen, now no longer able to carry his weight on his weakened limbs, dropped to the ground and hugged his legs, knowing that he didn’t have an option, “So you're telling me that, in exchange, I get both protection and a place to crash,” He sighed.

They stayed silent for a while, one processing and the other pondering. The moon soon taking center in the firmament.

Suddenly, the boy took a deep breath and asked, “So, what is the name of my knight in shining armor?”

“Urahara Kisuke” He didn’t look surprised that Kisuke gave him his real name.

“You sure are confident, has no one told you that names are dangerous” The male sneered and stood up again, dusting his pants of any lingering dirt from the alley. Stretching, he finally came to the moonlight. The vigilante blinked to get used to the brightness, his coppery eyelashes resting on scarred eyebags and freckled cheeks for a moment.

_ ‘Wait’ _ Something in him screamed, the same voice he heard when he was about to have an epiphany.

“I’m well aware of that, I just don’t think there is anything you can do to hurt me,” He managed to say, throwing a hook.

The teen gave a bitter laugh, “Now you are speaking like my piece of flaming shit of a sperm donor”

Like an oblivious fish, his companion bit the bait.

The constant chants of ‘ _ wait, wait, wait _ ’ of his instincts continued and made him focus on the clues he had unconsciously picked up throughout the night. From the child’s comments about his sister and father, to the U.A’s reports, to his eyelashes and horrible purple scars.

Connecting the dots was not difficult.

“And your name is?” The ex-assassin asked out of courtesy.

Kisuke could not help but notice the red roots of the kid’s dyed hair and the cyan of his eyes, he decided it was safer to not comment on it. Once the final puzzle pieces were put together, it was astounding how easy it was to solve, the final picture was a pretty tragic one.

“You can call me Dabi,” Replied Todoroki Touya.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it was a pleasure to deliver the non-surprise at the end xd.  
killing the trumpeter was such a shame, really liked the asshole (and no, his name is not a pun on the current president of the usa)  
btw, the cannon divergence into pure crack, I mean, AU-ness is only beginning.  
more plot and world-building are gonna happen, folks.
> 
> thanks for reading!


	4. Two punks, two goths, and one emo walk into a bar. (Part 3)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternative Title: Urahara Kisuke went soft.

Ichigo was kind of freaking out at the moment. The mental conversation between his swords was the most disturbing thing he had experienced since Orihime tried to bake his wedding cake.

He would never forget that horrible rubbery-grape, chocolate milkshake and mentaiko karashi flavor.

The hybrid didn't want to dwell on the fact that he had made a nest out of his own free will, or that he had adopted his disciple. He really was afraid of acknowledging his new dad status and, scratch Rukia, denial was his best friend.

Maybe he could ask someone else? An outside opinion may prove good for his sanity.

He curled up against his  _ student _ a bit more and brushed his nose against his soft green curls. With a feeling of regret Ichigo did not want to dwell on, he let go with utmost reluctance before taking his phone out of his pocket and calling the most hardass shinigami he knew, Kenpachi.

“Kenny, you got a call from Berry-kun” Giggled Yachiru. A familiar sadistic and battle hungry voice told her to wait a second.

“Are we finally having that battle, Kurosaki?” The bastard sure sounded eager, his bloodlust getting the better of him like always.

Ichigo didn’t have the patience nor time to deal with the captain’s usual lunacy.

“Kenpachi, do I nest?” He asked with a serious tone.

_ “...What?” _

“ _ Do. I.  _ ** _Nest_ ** _ ? _ ”

A haunted voice, dripping with both disbelief and trauma born of the bizarre, replied, ”Yes.''

[ **_____ Press Me _____** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SEkqtMw4aYs)

Kisuke and his  _ companion _ slipped quietly through the door.

“My husband is sleeping upstairs” Whispered the older man, and then his eyes landed on the pillow monstrosity.

Dabi looked at him incredulously, and he resisted the urge to groan. “Nevermind”

With a quiet, “Stay here,” he sat the boy on the couch —Ichigo had upgraded the place to look less like something out from the XV century— and went for some food. Dabi stretched and got comfortable in his impromptu bed.

While heating up the dinner his husband had prepared in advance, Kisuke saw the youngster had grabbed the remote control and was flipping absentmindedly through various channels. Good for him, it wasn’t like they used the television that much.

They soon became absorbed by their tasks, or entertainment in Dabi’s case, and exchanged whispered conversation regarding what info the young man had on the League. When Kisuke finished heating the food, he turned off the stove and poured the miso soup and rice uncaringly in a bowl. He opened the fridge for a drink and noted they were out of yogurt; taking a canned tea with an  _ aha! _ that startled the boy out of his skin, he took a seat next to his guest and offered the eager man what he needed.

Kisuke ignored the disgusting eating noises from the smiling brat beside him. The green woman from the news channel flickered her tongue and droned that the investigation of the recent deaths of newby heroes and sidekicks in Hosu were the work of a serial killer. The blond side-eyed his companion under the shadow of his hat, how he briefly paused in his next bite, eyes glaring holes on the screen, and then continued as if nothing happened. The news went next onto some new hero debut or another and Kisuke fell into a semi-sleep.

Until the static sound of burning took over the quiet environment.

Dabi gave a little jolt, barely perceptible by a human, and clenched his fists while he maintained a blank face. Endeavor raised from the flames and raised a fist towards his audience in victory, the defeated villain cowering under him. Kisuke put a hand on his shoulder, let some of his reiatsu out, and watched the tension bleed away from Dabi.

Kisuke raised an eyebrow and gestured not so discreetly towards the screen, he saw as realization flashed in Dabi’s eyes. The shopkeeper kept his hand on the vigilante’s shoulder-blade and guided him to the normal basement — the one that looked as if a training area clashed with a storage room.

(Neither noticed Ichigo and Izuku had woken up to the smell of something burning, Ichigo took the fire extinguisher from under the table and ran to the kitchen.

Kisuke had forgotten to unplug the rice cooker.

Cursing under his breath, Ichigo decided that cereal was as good a breakfast as any and went for milk and some yogurt under Izuku’s urgent request.

Kid kept glancing in the basement’s direction for some reason.

It was probably nothing).

Once in the basement, Kisuke decided to stick his foot on his mouth, “So, Todoroki Touya-san?”

He should have been less surprised at the glare  _ that  _ evoked. “How long, you bastard?”

“For around six hours” Kisuke waved his fan and gave a long-suffering smirk.

“You son of a—”

“And I am, naturally, not going to back out on my word, and that includes telling anyone about your little secret”

“—bitch! Wait,  _ what? _ ”

He hid a snort behind his fan. “How could you ever  _ doubt _ me this way?”

Okay, the possible human trafiquer’s hand-on-heart thing needed to stop, like  _ right now _ . “Aren’t you the type of fucker who is into blackmail? I mean, outside the shitty looks, I’m kind of worth the credibility on the Hero Society if All Might retires… okay, that is not happening, but it will be a damn huge blow”

“No matter how tempting, there are more satisfying ways to deal with the Hero Problem” Said blondie ominously. “You paid me with the information that I wanted about my objective and I, in return, will  _ protect you _ . It is a win-win situation.”

Dabi made a gesture of dissent and turned to leave, blue flames flickering on his fingertips. Good deal or not, something about this guy smelled really fishy. He was on high alert all the way to the door upstairs, not believing for a second he was getting out of this one without fighting.

The man was suddenly next to him in a  _ flash _ . Smile full of teeth, hat obscuring his sharp gaze. “I am not interested enough on human affairs to sacrifice my husband’s trust on simple pettiness, child”

_ Welp _ , Dabi was in trouble.

The young adult swallowed, faced the thing ( _ because nothing human could have this kind of presence _ ) and whispered, “I just signed a deal with the Devil, didn’t I?”

To his surprise, it laughed. “No, no. Think for a moment, Touya-kun”

The presence was back but, now that Dabi was paying attention to it, it felt the exact same that in the living room. Oppressing, and more or less soothing in an awkward way, like a pat in the back. “Strange”

What gave the dude the right to look so amused? “It appears that your little monkey brain has catched up to the circumstances”

Dabi ignored the older ( _ creature’s? _ ) man’s mirth for the moment and nodded, still wary.

Blondie seemed to notice, because he took a seat on some cardboard boxes and cracked his neck joints. He patted the box next to him but Dabi didn’t take him on the offer, the man just shrugged.

“I did not plan to find a curiosity like yourself on my midnight stroll” Began Kisuke, trying to lure the kid into a sense of security. Poor lad needed it. “Humans tend to think that death comes easy. A child burns himself, and part of a stadium, in a sudden psychotic break once he sees his father among the public, like his crazy mother. No body, nor wits to even imagine that nothing in this situation seems to click together”

His captive audience gave a snort that sounded like a wheeze, and it seemed that his body finally caught up on the hurt department. Kisuke grabbed Dabi on the way to the dirty floor, the boy grunting in protest. Without thinking too much on the implications, he threw the boy over his shoulder and took the old couch leaning on the wall. The shopkeeper also took a mattress from one of the boxes on the shelf, he quickly arranged both on the ground and put the boy delicately over them.

Concentrating Healing Kido on his hands, Kisuke started to treat each one of the skirming kid’s injuries. “I suspected you had survived,” He continued, “And our kind isn’t too fond of heroes to justify just about any of their stunts. Or crimes”

“What are you going to do with me?” Dabi sighed.

“Nothing. And you?”

Kisuke chuckled and then geared up for his next question. If he failed here, he could kiss any truce with the kid goodbye. “What do you want, boy?” At the raised eyebrow he clarified himself, “About this situation, life in general. Your little vigilante stunts are not going to last long, I’m afraid”

Dabi laughed bitterly. “I want him dead,” He purred. “I want the society that hurt me burnt to ashes and to give the world the same pain it inflicted on me”

Of course the kid chose the melodramatic and emotional approach to his problems.

Damn it, Kisuke cannot do emotions. Who the hell thought he was even remotely capable of dealing with  _ feelings _ ?

Okay, maybe he could, as Ichigo says,  _ bullshit _ his way through this? Make a speech?

Well, no time like the present.

“In other words, you desire to become a monster. Am I correct?”

Dabi winced when Kisuke moved to a cut on his neck, and nodded.

If the grey eyed man remembered correctly, combining mushy flowery language and harsh living situations were part of the melodrama gig.  “And to achieve your goal, you will sacrifice all sense of morality. To bring your enemies to their knees, to hear them plead for mercy. To watch their hopeless crying, to make them choke on their blood. To slaughter them, to make them bleed, to steal their happiness and pride until they become an empty shell like you.” Kisuke gave a beatific smile to the lad’s horrified and interested face, and whispered in his ear. “To cremate your father, to pour scalding water on your mother, to hear your twin scream herself hoarse, to make your brothers realize you exist and that you hurt so much that any other feeling has left you to rot”

Who knew his flare for dramatics was going to be  _ useful _ one day?

What did Jinta call it? Wing it? No, it was something associated with nails. Oh, yeah! Kisuke was totally  _ nailing _ this feelings thing.

...why did he suddenly had the need to cringe at himself?

Dabi swallowed, his hands trembled, his will faltered “...yes”

The man exhaled, and pulled out a surgical staple from inside his robes. He methodically began to check where the skin had pulled to fix it, the kid barely flinching. Kisuke tried to push back memories from an injured Ichigo smiling at him.

Well, time to finish his  _ oratory deed _ .

“I used to be that monster”

Dabi inhaled sharply, it was not from his injuries.

“And that path you are taking? It’s not worth it” Serious gray eyes bored into terrified and defiant cyan.  “It is a never ending cycle. You will keep on killing and hurting, in a desperate bid to numb yourself. Soon, you will realize the agony, choking and all-consuming, will never cease. On this road to damnation, the fate of a rabid dog is what awaits in the end. And you shall wait for the day someone takes pity on you, and takes you out of your misery.”

Kisuke resisted the reflex to wipe a tear out of his eye, he really was good at this thing. He almost convinced himself.

“So what?” Screamed the shaking boy. “Since the day I was born in that house, I never had an opportunity. I’m destined to be this” Dabi pointed to his body for emphasis. Talk about lack of self-love...

And thankfully, the kid was dramatic too! They could totally be dramatic together, maybe they should take theater as a hobby.

“That is not true” The boy glared, and both ignored the tears in his light-blue eyes “All of us can be saved, you just have to give yourself a chance”

“Ha! You some kind of hero from wherever you are from or something?” He spitted out.

Kisuke grimaced, and tried to wipe his clean hands on his robes. He quickly gave space as the boy raised to a wobbly stance, already healed. “No, I am not. Far from it”

He gave a mocking laugh, “Then what?”

“Just a humble shopkeeper who found a hurt kid on the street and decided to help”

The boy nodded and kneeled on the tatami floor, limbs trembling, breath fast. Urahara hoped the mental breakdown would be easy on his very flammable furniture or Ichigo would kill them both.

Oh, yeah. Kid in the middle of a panic attack, should focus. Furniture can wait.

He kneeled and awkwardly put a hand on a narrow shoulder, mentally calculating how much food the kid was going to need to approach an acceptable weight.

“Did you get out?”

Finally, the one word answer part! “Yes”

“Was it easy?”

His hands appeared a bit too red under the ceiling light. “No”

“... can you help me?”

As if he would not, brats these days. “Of course”

Damn it if his husband did not make him soft.

**_____ Don’t Press Me _____**

The Kurosaki-Urahara first adoption went like this:

“Kisuke, why do you have a young man that is not me sitting on your lap?” Asked Ichigo, a bag with store-bought milk on his right arm. Izuku had taken his yogurt on the way to school.

“Oh, Touya here is our new kid,” Said Kisuke.

The hybrid relaxed his tense shoulders, he was far too monogamous for this shit.

“Ah, then it is okay”

“...”

“...”

“ _ Wait, that is not okay! _ Not at all!”

“What is wrong, new dad?” Said the brat teasingly, in a very Kisuke-like fashion.

Ichigo groaned.

**_____ ** [ **Press Me** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F12eGnqqh_o) ** _____**

It was time for some Sports Festival training and Ichigo decided that an emergency call was in order.

“Chad, I need you”

(“Ururu will murder Izuku without hesitantion, love” Was Ichigo’s opinion.

“...”

So Chad was it)

“Should I be concerned? Normally, that means the apocalypse is near Ichigo”

“Don’t be dramatic, that only happened the last two —”

“Hundred”

“— hundred times! It’s not a big deal!”

Kisuke and Dabi snorted from their perch on the sofa, the latter playing some car game on his phone and snuggling up to Kisuke like some kind of attention starved cat. Ichigo would be jealous if the brat didn’t use his disciple and him as glorified pillows too.

“Of course, I’m obviously exaggerating” With Chad it was extremely hard to tell sarcasm from his usual monotone.

“Good to know we are on the same track” He bit his lip, peeved about what he had to say next. “So, I got this student that needs fullbring training and I kinda suck at teaching other things apart from how to get more muscle. I tried Renji and Rukia but they both told me that fullbring and shinigami don’t mix well, what with the Hollow powers…” He scowled, “And when I asked Shinji, he just plain refused to laugh at my pain.”

Chad made the kind of sigh that is full of regret. Ichigo was about to tell him where to stick it when the dark haired man responded, “I will be returning to Japan in a couple of days”.

“I knew I could count on you, Chad!”

With the call, and thus Izuku’s future training, taken care of, he dropped on his husband’s lap and took over petting his new son’s hair. The two idiots had identical smirks on their faces, amused and obviously trying not to laugh at him.

Until Dabi broke his composure and sniggered.

As Ichigo contemplated with growing satisfaction the new bumps he had bestowed upon his boys’ heads, he could not help but consider that some of the Old Goat’s teachings had  _ some _ merit.

Time makes people wiser, he supposed.

Or more insane.

**_____ Don’t Press Me _____**

“Wait, you believe us?” Said Rukia, astonished.

Ichigo assembled the best trainers he could get for Izuku-kun’s various abilities, and that included his impossible quirk. Rukia, the one designed to make sure they didn’t go all Ichigo levels of training on the poor human kid, gave herself the task of giving the whole beach explanation again.

And then Izuku went ahead and said that he believed them the first time.

“Well, yeah. The only thing you got wrong is that I am dead” Replied Izuku and if that wasn’t cognitive dissonance at its finest, Ichigo would swallow a Menos “It’s not like Kurosaki-sensei was trying to hide his inhumanness”   


Everybody nodded, accepting that as the totally valid argument it was. They, including the aforementioned hybrid, were okay with the fact that Ichigo had the subtleness of an active volcano.

For some reason, after that all of those present choose that precise moment to become absorbed on their own musings. Kisuke was the exception to the rule seeing that he had the  _ ‘ignore all uninteresting social interaction’ _ thing down to an art form. Their black haired hatchling was wrapped around him, making a realistic representation of a boa’s constricting power. He was amazed by how much physical affection his touch-repulsed husband could resist with the might of bullshit and stubbornness.

Dabi raised a poorly dyed eyebrow at his continued staring, and pulled at the blond’s haori to get his attention. The ex-assassin made his own version of jolting out of a dream and his arm inched towards his camouflaged sword, a distinct protective fire lighting his eyes. Ichigo, playing up his ‘ _ married people get telepathic powers amerite _ ’ card, made eye contact and nodded once, and Kisuke slowly relaxed. The whole time, their flustered son struggled to hide his shame at what he had accidentally provoked, playing with the dark vest on his scarred hands.

“Papa berry” Said Dabi to break the awkward silence.

Renji choked on the mango he had taken out of nowhere, Rukia sputtered from Izuku’s side, Kisuke made the most undignified snort Ichigo had ever heard, and the teachers who wanted to foresee the training looked ready to facepalm. The pierced brat, who had stopped his snuggling sesion with Kisuke and was eyeing him with interest, smirked in satisfaction with the chaos he had created — and to not longer be the center of attention.

Ichigo decided that a yellow-eyed scolding glare was in order but, just as he was about to connect his burning gaze with the cyan of his misbehaving son, the brat gave him a pout and made grabby motions. The vizard resisted at first, for a maximum of five seconds, before the zombi-like cuteness won him over.

Now with his baby resting on his shoulder— kid sure could take a nap fucking everywhere— Ichigo flared up his reiatsu a little. Kisuke got the message and told Renji —who, together with Chad, was in charge of quirk training— to convert the fullbring’s knowledge, and sleepy grunts thanks to his screwed up timezone, into human speech. Renji’s translation was filled with vigorous gestures and mango metaphors, to the surprise of no one.

“It’s simple, for example, say ‘I don’t believe in mangoes’ and they will disappear!” Renji continued, pointing at his half-eaten mango.

“I don’t think that is quite what we were thinking, Abarai-fukutaicho” Said Kisuke.

“Of course it is! Now kid, begin by imagining a whole mango-less world with many other juicier and better fruits to replace them”

Typical Renji, thinking only with his stomach.

Dabi blinked lazily, snuggled up to Ichigo’s chest, and drawled, “Dude, are you high or something?”

All Might stood to attention, peeved, “We don’t permit illicit substances in this fine establishment, young Abarai”

Ichigo made a face, you knew you had reached a new low when a Jack Skellington wannabe felt like scolding you.

“Is Renji really considering a mango genocide as the answer?” Sighed Ichigo, reconsidering all his life’s choices. Dabi snickered.

“The fact such sentence makes perfect sense in context is what baffles me, Berry” Answered Kisuke, flabbergasted.

As Chad heard his friends slowly but surely fall into  _ insanity _ with a tranquil face, he made eye contact with the sleeping man-corpse in the yellow bag, gradually backtracked, and got the hell out of dodge.

Dabi made his best impression of a cackling Yoruichi.

**_____ ** [ **Press Me** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ae_TI9xFdbs) ** _____**

As Ichigo stood in front of  _ Full Quincy & Co _ , he couldn’t help but regret all life choices, again.

Giving out a deep sight, he walked up to the secretary desk and asked if his appointment with Ishida Uryū was still in place. The red haired woman gave him a frown while clutching her Chappy plushy against her chest, and pointed in the elevator’s general direction. Not wanting to incor her wrath, the hybrid quickly made his way to Ishida’s office.

(In Ichigo’s opinion, even if the idea of beings that had been hunted down by shinigami for millenia banding together and forming an organization to protect themselves was a noble idea, the people working here were a pain in the ass. And not the fun kind like Ishida)

He signalled a shy Izuku to follow him, and took his hand when the kid didn’t respond. It didn’t matter that the child was totally flustered at the idea of Kisuke and him using their connections to get him things, Izuku needed a better outfit, one that was not so easily destroyed (or looked like a murder rabbit, he had enough with Rukia).

They soon arrived at the quincy’s office, and were given a warm welcome. “Why should I subject myself to spending more time than necessary with you, Kurosaki?”

Yep, a warm greeting by a pissed off Ishida.

“Oh, you know. The alternative will be to go and get Best Jeanist’s products. I’ve heard he has new  _ fancy outfits _ , perfect for future number-one-hero here” He gave his best Kisuke smile.

The quincy’s sight of regret was far more obvious than Chad’s. “I first have to take his measures to see what I’m working with”

He heard a snort from the window, and a gasp from Izuku. Ichigo didn’t even bother to look at his husband perched on a 20th floor windowsill, it was bad for his blood pleasure. “You could have taken the elevator, Honey”

“But Love, what about my dramatic entrance?”

“Learn to interact with other people like a normal human being,” At Kisuke’s shit eating grin, he added, “or person”

A pale Izuku quickly went to open the window, the only one with common sense in the room.

Ishida cleared his throat with a pointed glare, flicked his glasses up his nose, and pointed to the materials he had collected while they were distracted. And, oh, that was Orihime all right.

Taking the hint, Izuku followed Ishida to one of the changing rooms with Kisuke not far behind, and the room was enveloped in an awkward silence. Orihime, with her lab coat and sundress, didn’t look a day older than two hundred years ago. She smiled prettily and waved before stopping mid-motion, grimacing a bit. It didn’t take much time for the grimace to turn into a frown.

It had been  _ years _ since he talked with the Ishida-Inoue marriage — Orihime specifically, his relationship with Ishida was rocky at best — even if it was the equivalent of a month in shinigami terms. Still, this mission was making it clear how long it had been since he had any amount of quality time with his friends and family, outside of killing hollows or complaining about Soul Society’s politics. So he gave the frowning fullbring an apologetic look, mentally promising himself to increase his visits, or at least call them more often.

“Eh… I know it’s been awhile Hime, and I’m sorry” He said awkwardly.

She made a face, “It’s okay, I know how weird our timelines are”

He scowled, “That isn’t an excuse and you know it. Please don’t spare my feelings for something so stupid, it’s bullshit.”

The woman gave a hearty laugh before diverting the conversation, “Midoriya-kun is a good kid. Right, Ichi-chan?”

Ichigo looked to the side, a fond smile on his face. “You don’t know the half of it,” It wasn’t like he could take the pride out of his tone.

Orihime looked at him with serious eyes, and said “Are you going to adopt him?”

He jerked upright, sputtering.

Ishida, thankfully, chose that moment to get out of the room with his  _ disciple _ in thow. He put his book with Izuku’s measurements on the dinner table and adjusted his glasses.

“I can’t continue without Kuchiki-san’s input,” Drawled Ishida, “Perhaps some flexible reinforcements interwoven inside the cloth like we did with Eraserhead’s scarf”

Kisuke frowned. “Won’t such modifications limit movement?”

“I’m more curious about what Rukia has to do with this, considering how creatively challenged she is” Interjected Ichigo.

“I was not referring to Kuchiki Rukia-san”

“Wait. You mean Byakuya?” Asked the hybrid in disbelief. “He is worse than her!”

Ishida scowled, “You do know you are offending my company’s most prized fashion consultant, right?”

“...are you sure it's not because you two love to gossip like old ladies?”

Orihime snickered.

“Aw. It’s so cute that Anata and Byakuya-kun bonded over how annoying Kisuke-kun and Ichi-chan are” Said Orihime.

She clapped her hands and put them next to her head, her eyes closed in pleasure. The tube, with a bubbling substance inside, sticking out from the pocket of her lab coat fell to the floor. The airhead catched it just a centimeter from its doom, everyone in the room blinked, barely faced.

“Really cute, Hime” Deadpanned Ichigo, giving the blushing Quincy  _ a look _ .

(Somewhere in the 78th District, Rukia sneezed.

“Someone is talking about you, Bunny-chan” Said the kind old lady she was talking with.

“Oh no. It’s just my ‘ _ I just had the sudden need to go and kick Ichigo _ ’ instincts” She responded)

Back in the Human World, Ichigo shuddered. And maybe he should stop getting distracted because the next thing he heard was…

“My designer instincts are telling me that adopting that boy is going out of trend, Kurosaki” Whispered the quincy.

The saying that married people developed telepathic powers was becoming a fact in Ichigo’s humble opinion. Hell, he didn’t need to look at Kisuke in the middle of battle to know what devious plan the man had in mind.

Wait.

_ “I’m not fucking going to adopt the kid!” _

**_____ Don’t Press Me _____**

At last, the long-awaited Sports Festival was finally upon them, and with it, the debut of Izuku-kun. Ichigo of course invited everyone in the gang but only Orihime and Ishida arrived. The others used the most ridiculous excuses they could think of for not attending — because apparently seeing Kisuke acting in a fatherly way was the most impure phenomenon the putrid mind of the universe, or Aizen, had ever conceived.

Not that he faulted them, it weirded him out too.

Musings about Kisuke’s parental prowess aside, the first part of the festival seemed equal parts difficult and tricky. It was a reflection of the incident that had happened in the school, where all the students panicked and then attempted to escape without any success, which had all the non-explosive subtlety of a Bakugou-Midoriya situation.

Ichigo hoped Izuku reached the same conclusion before the clusterfuck began.

They were lucky enough to buy front seats — Midoriya-san had thanked them profusely for such a favor, she was really excited to see her baby boy live. The chubby female had taken the spot next to Orihime and both were chatting happily. Ishida sat next to his wife, next were Dabi, Kisuke and himself.

“You saw the hot chick from 3-B yesterday” Came from their left, and the orange haired man was this close to  _ Cero-ing _ the idiots.

“Yeah, but I needed less clothes” Even Kisuke was looking annoyed. Ichigo decided to better ignore them and paid attention to Midoriya-san’s gossip. For such a peaceful lady, she had blackmail material on quite a lot of people.

One of the group of idiots saw the creepy doll-like teen sitting with them, head resting on the shopkeeper’s shoulder, and sneered. “Guys, look at that poor fucker” He pointed and laughed with his band of idiots, the black haired teen barely flinched.

The blond man with the striped hat beside him, on the other hand, smiled creepily and waved enthusiastically at them.They promptly <strike>fled for their lives</strike> respectfully left the premises.

Unpleasant company out of earshot, they enjoyed the race. Each of them took turns handling tissues to wipe Midoriya-san's fountain of a face, and Orihime took to squishing her in reassurance.

Izuku won with his wit, no broken bone in sight, with a stunt only a mind inspired and trained by Kisuke could conceive.

**_____ ** [ **Press Me** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j9jbEIKIKTk) ** _____**

When Izuku put the highest freaking headband on, Ichigo couldn't help but worry for his student’s  _ — “hatchling’s, King” _ “ **shut up,** Shiro!”— safety.

He was proven right.

Kisuke’s left hand ended up a mangled, wobbly thing and the orange haired man healed it apologetically. Midoriya-san was a mess and used poor Orihime’s coat as a wipe. It was her favorite, with fluff at the ends and a not-so-obnoxious pink. Dabi and Ishida recounted the events, since the rest of the group was in a state of disaster.

It was a damn intense competition.

Izuku had not managed to injure himself to the point of urgent medical attention and holy shit, Ichigo was done. Even he wasn’t this injury prone, in his teens he could have given a fucking blood bank a run for its money and it had taken months between one fight and the next (not really, but Ichigo was feeling pretty guilty about worrying his loved ones in the past.

He swore he heard Rukia laughing).

After all the battles and almost a heart attack or two —it wasn’t Rukia who was quietly laughing at him, it was a very pale All Might— his disciple took second place, and Ichigo felt like the proudest idiot in the world. It also proved that Izuku thrived under their non-conventional training regime.

He felt pretty fine until it was announced that the last event of the Sports Festival was a battle tournament. As in, superpowered reckless teens against superpowered reckless teens.

Ichigo’s grip on his husband’s just healed hand tightened.

Ishida patted Kisuke’s back consolingly.

**_____ Don’t Press Me _____**

While Ichigo was freaking out about his kid’s tendency for injury in the Sports Festival, a very important Captain Meeting was taking place at Soul Society.

“Is this about who replaces Kyoraku when he is too drunk to function?” Asked Toshiro.

“Yeah” Replied Kensei.

“Affirmative! Ice-dragon boy!” Said Rukia’s new lieutenant.

“Please, do not talk about my cute Captain’s dragon in that way” Cackled Rangiku.

Both Hitsugaya and Rukia’s lieutenant groaned.

The guy was the victim of an endless stream of bondage jokes thanks to his zanpakuto’s shikai, a weird wisp-like material that he called Black Whip, and its attacks were very BDSM like. His baldness and way of speech were another thing the ex-hero was teased about.

He also got along swimmingly well with Shimura-fukutaicho for some strange reason. They didn’t even coexist in the same period of time in the living world.

“Freaking finally” Sighed Hisane, glancing at Nanao, or rather at the tower of paperwork, with pity.

Despite the fact that Ise Nanao made competence her bitch, the workload of a Captain Commander was way too much of a hassle when you had to work politics with the 46 pigs. Genshirou’s retirement, as the last standing member of the traditional approach to politics, had only added more fuel to the bureaucratic fire — and twice the paperwork.

It was a good thing that the Kurosaki-Urahara marriage had stayed in the living world. Poor Nanao could barely contain normal shinigami chaos.

“I have a suggestion” Said Shinji, passing a bunch of papers for everyone to read, “He has yet to join us, however, his prowess in dealing with a bunch of bullcrap is something that has impressed the likes of Urahara Kisuke”

Sui-Feng scowled. “He is just a simple human, Hirako-taichou. I do not see what is so remarkable about him”

The vizard gave her his piano-like smile. “This man deals with twenty Ichigos, works two jobs, and still has time to snark. All on his lonesome”

The shinigami in the meeting room turned to face the man in bewilderment, some getting whiplash.

The Second Division’s captain’s face turned from scowling to considering.

“Aizawa Shouta could prove to be useful,” She huffed.

“Once this human meets his end,” Drawled an intoxicated Kyoraku, “We will get an invaluable asset on our ranks”.

“And a possible new Captain Commander if I get my way” Hissed an irritated Nanao, signing more papers.

Everybody gave a nod of agreement.

**_____ ** [ **Press Me** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_ONqHM40WdQ) ** _____**

Toshinori, in his muscle form, was minding his own business when he saw Todoroki Enji from the corner of his eye. The man had a difficult attitude, a horrible predisposition if he was being honest, but Endeavor was a family man and his son was participating in the Festival. It didn’t matter that their relationship was nonexistent, the Symbol of Peace always tried to be supportive with his coworkers.

He waved and gave his best smile in his direction, his body language light and happy. The other hero huffed, annoyed, and continued to ignore him. Never one to be dissuaded by the obvious or difficult cases, Toshinori persisted and gave small talk in the hero’s direction about recent cases, the new changes of U.A, and, in a sudden reckless move, about the new overly-competent teachers who had taught one of children — he was not impulsive enough to reveal young Midoriya was his disciple — better than he could. The Flame Hero, suddenly, looked very interested in the light conversation. Deciding to not look a gift horse in the mouth, Toshinori talked for both of them all the way to his seat.

“What type of training regime do they apply?” Asked Endeavor, his eyes were intense and focused. He gave a real creepy vibe that felt obsessive all the way to Toshinori’s bones.

(The blond hero sincerely didn’t know what he did in a past life to have to always deal with weirdos like Kurosaki, or Todoroki specially. Not that he was mean, or stupid, enough to admit it to the Flame Hero’s face)

“Kurosaki-san and his family are really odd” He admitted out of nowhere, in a sudden pensive mood.

Enji, displeased at the non sequitur, tensed his jaw. “He is just another man, All Might”

“No. No. The last time I talked with him, he said the psychotic voice in his mind was complaining that the old voice was heading a guided meditation session, and his friend tried to convince our shared  disciple-so...  _ student! _ that getting rid of the world’s mango population is an excellent training practice.”

Witnesing Endeavor’s stunned expression was going to be the highlight of his day, right there after Kurosaki-kun’s almost heart attack.

“... _ what? _ ”

**_____ Don’t Press Me _____**

Izuku and a tired, purple haired kid entered the arena. Their little bean had a serious frown on his face which quickly changed to surprise when he paid attention to his sleepy opponent, who said,

“So you are the famous problem child, it’s a pleasure” His smirk took on a familiar serial killer tint.

The whole stadium bore witness to the freckled kids muttering habits, with ear-smoke, hand on chin and everything. His word-vomit halted and his green eyes focused again,

“Hey, are you Aizawa-sensei’s kid?” Asked Izuku, against all common sense for some reason, and was promptly mind-controlled by the amused kid’s quiet ‘ _ yeah, dummy _ ’.

Midoriya’s rashtack family took it as a cue to facepalm.

The next minutes were damn tense. The eggplant ordered a blank faced Izuku to walk towards the edge of the ring, and his pa _ —teacher _ had some pretty bad flashbacks. There were some tells about the fight Izuku was having with his body like the sweet on his brow and how his fingers trembled.

And then he activated his quirk on said digits, and  _ broke _ his way out of his stupor. He ran towards the strangely resigned sleepy kid and damn if that purple haired brat did put up a fight, with a prowess on hand in hand combat that reminded Ichigo of Izuku’s homeroom teacher. They kicked, punched and snarled at each other like a pair of bear cubs, until  _ finally _ his green pupil wrestled the brat into submission.

Ichigo hated the fact that he was proud that the fight ended with just a few broken fingers and scratches. He also worried about the state of his husband’s hand after the whole exchange, Kisuke’s grimace of pain not helping matters.

Maybe the hybrid's pale complexion was kinda worrying because Ishida quickly took Kisuke’s mangled hand out of Ichigo’s and asked, “Urahara-san. How do you woo a total brute?”

Before Kisuke could secure their bet money — and his spouse’s peace of mind — with a response, the alarm that announced the next match ringed. The competitors, as was custom, came out of the doors on each side of the arena. One was a pink haired girl, her eyes reflecting a crazed gleam that reminded him too much of Orihime’s to be a comfort (wait,  _ wasn’t she part of Izuku’s calvary battle team? _ ) The other was just your everyday robot guy.

The fight itself was not worth commenting on.

No, scratch that. It wasn’t even a battle, it was sudden self-advertisement with extra violence. Pink-girl could pack a punch, both towards robot guy’s gut and pride, and go around about her ‘babies’ like it was an everyday thing. It was damn terrifying.

And the possessive and gleeful aura Orihime was emanating sent a shiver down his back.

Once the pink haired girl stopped advertising her products, —poor robot guy really,  _ really _ didn’t deserve that— Orihime turned to her husband, eyes literally star shaped and sparkling, and whispered with a reverence not heard of since she programed the UA’s entrance exam robots to take over the school a year ago. Manic giggling and white coat included.

Kisuke still gets a kick out of it to this day.

“Anata, I want her” She whisper-demanded.

Ishida, as the Holy Grail of rationality and common sense that he is, was about to refuse and take the conversation to less world ending slash adoption topics. Only to be cut off in the middle of mustering up the willpower to deter his crazy scientist of a wife by said wife suddenly grabbing and shaking him from side to side, a stream of  _ anata, anata, anata _ flowing from her mouth.

Dabi made a face from where he was lazing around on Ichigo’s lap, and whimpered “That poor man’s  _ spine _ ”

Kisuke nodded with an actual  _ flinch _ .

Ichigo thought that they should really tone down the dramatics.

**_____ ** [ **Press Me** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uKs5QvdDIns) ** _____**

Shoto intercepted his dad on his way to the arena, only to find the man shaking on his feet, complexion pale and eyes lost, and his mouth making aborted motions as if trying to break out of his dumbfounded state. The boy acknowledged that everything took a nosedive for the bizarre since he entered this school and whatnot. But hearing his father muttering ‘old man guided-meditation voice is All Might’s weakness’ was taking it a little far.

Talk about a mood whiplash after telling his sad backstory to an unsuspecting, and very attractive, broccoli haired hero fan.

As soon as the forever number two hero seemed to have found the last dregs of his sanity, he tried to make some kind of pep talk to an absolutely not interested Shouto. Who took the sane route and strolled the hell out of there.

And, as Shouto later found out, having a meltdown in front of the gorgeous Midoriya Izuku and using his fireside without restraint was much better than staying with his father.

Unfortunately, the subsequent gay crisis didn’t help him preserve his sanity at all.

**_____ ** [ **Press Me** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T_ny-gWcOpw) ** _____**

Holy shit, Izuku was going to fucking die! He had just sassed Endeavor of all people and didn’t know how the everloving fuck he had managed to get the courage to do that, to the Number Two Hero no less. He had just been minding his business when out of nowhere the guy came up to him and said some very  _ rude _ things and something in him exploded in a protective rage he never thought himself capable of.

Izuku was punched with the fact that his da— _ Kurosaki-sensei _ would be  _ proud _ . And that only added to his inner conflict.

[ _ Here comes the disaster! _ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tscfrv6ZXSs)

He was muttering up a storm, hands up to his face and biting his nails when he found Dabi lazily reclined against the entrance to the arena. So maybe he had heard as Izuku made a fool of himself and now his shoes had competition with how  _ red _ he had gotten in a matter of seconds.

“Not Shouto, huh” The dark haired man said before enveloping a blushing Izuku in a pretty unexpected embrace. Confused, he geared up to make a pasable apology.

“I didn’t mean it?! Well, maybe I did but I know it was a bad idea and I’m sorry if it came across as pretentious ‘cause I don’t understand the situation fully. And maybe he deserves something worse than what I said but I was angry and he hurt Todoroki-kun and you— and maybe I shouldn’t know that but it wasn’t like I was planning on listening your conversation with Urahara-san that night and it was rude and I’m sorry for it and—”

“Shut the fuck up and let me appreciate you” Dabi whispered with a small,  _ proud _ smile on his scarred face, and Izuku suddenly had the need to insult Endeavor again just to see it more often.

The dark haired man left after giving him words of encouragement, tranquil in the knowledge that, if anyone could save his Shouto from self-destruction, it was Izuku. His heart overflowing, Izuku entered the arena with just a thought in mind.  _ To save Todoroki-kun _ .

After Izuku lost against Dabi’s other little brother, and whoa that was  _ confusing _ , everything was a blur.

**_____ Don't Press Me _____**

Did they really tie up a fifteen year old kid to a podium in front of the cameras and no one saw anything wrong with that?

_ Fucking hero society _ .

It was a good thing Ichigo was going to Cero it all to hell. The bureaucratic idiots didn’t deserve anything less than destruction, with counted exceptions.

But first, he had to deal with Izuku’s broken bones  _ again _ . Kid couldn’t keep out of trouble for even twenty four hours, and did anybody even think about stopping these kids from destroying themselves in a  _ competition _ ? They had people who could knock them out in five seconds flat.

“What the fuck is wrong with these heroes?” Asked a bewildered Dabi.

Ichigo couldn’t agree more.

[ _ These heroes were rotting. _ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=13zsNR_p1sk)

As the group— minus Kisuke who had stayed with Izuku— walked somberly towards a cafeteria, a man in a suit with a strange oni mask passed near them. His oxygen cart and strange appearance made Ichigo’s skin rise in goosebumps. But Midoriya-san was exhausted and he felt as if he was about to collapse at any moment, Ishida even took pity on him and was more or less bodily dragging the hybrid to caffeine heaven. So Ichigo made the swift decision of ignoring his instincts, much to Shiro’s displeasure.

Why did Ichigo felt like that decision was going to bite him later in the ass?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By Shinigami standards, Dabi is still pretty much a teen. He's also very touch-starved, hence his excessive cuddling. It will stop bit by bit once he begins to heal from his trauma.
> 
> About the two hundred apocalypse scenarios, you can guess how distributed they were in the last 200 years. Spoiler alert: It wasn't even, at all.
> 
> The next chapter is going to take a while, here's to hoping it's not a year-worthy one.


End file.
